#i just have to try and make peace with it

[dismalflo]

intervene

Poly!marauders x reader where james is oblivious to being flirted with ✩ 875 words

cw: reader is a lil jealous, fluff, established relationship

"She's obviously flirting with him, Rem," you murmur petulantly from your place on Remus’s lap. You've nestled yourself in a cozy armchair away from the chaos of the party, the two of you being the quieter pair in comparison to your more energetic boyfriends. Sirius had wandered off a while ago to do god knows what, and James—lovely, oblivious James—is standing across the room, completely unaware that the girl next to him is flirting with him. And, of course, you can’t help but glare at her from your spot.

"I know, dove," Remus replies with a lazy smile, pausing to squeeze your waist. His tone turns teasing as he adds, "I have eyes."

You whip your head around to look at him, incredulous. "You—you know? That's it? You're not going to do anything about it?" Your dramatics earn a soft smile from him, as he gently moves his hands to cup your face.

He plants a few quick kisses over your cheeks in an effort to placate you. And it works. You melt into Remus, happy to be doted on. Despite the noisy room full of people, in this moment with him, everything feels peaceful.

"I'm not doing anything about it because he keeps looking over at us and��" Remus’s mischievous glint catches your eye, that familiar spark he and the others get whenever they’re scheming. "Just imagine what Pads will do when he comes back and sees it."” 

Your jaw drops. "Oh, you're mean when you want to be." Despite the words, you cuddle in closer to Remus, and he beams down at you, his chest rumbling with quiet laughter.

"Mean? Me?" He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your temple as he continues to hold you close. "I’m just enjoying the show."

You glance back over at James and the girl. She’s still leaning in, giggling all but ignoring James’s distracted response. A strange mix of protective instinct and possessiveness bubbles up inside you. Just as you’re about to shuffle out of Remus’s lap and go retrieve James, you spot Sirius making his way over to him

You straighten up, suddenly feeling a little more tense. Remus’s arms tighten around you as he notices the shift in your demeanor.

“Here comes trouble,” he murmurs with a knowing smile, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

You can hardly hear the boys from where you’re sat but you do see the over the top fervent kiss Sirius gives James, the smitten smile on the curly haired boy afterwards, and the hardened features of Sirius’ face as he talks to the girl that was flirting a minute ago. Obviously she gets the hint, she walks off in the opposite direction and the two boys walk towards you and Remus.

Sirius arrives looking smug, bending down to give out kisses like he’s handing out gifts

"You’re welcome, poppet," he teases, and maybe your jealousy wasn’t as well hidden as you thought. Remus barks a laugh at your expense. James, still confused, looks from Sirius to you and back again, trying to process what just happened.

"Wait, what—did you—?" James stammers, blinking in surprise.

Sirius grins, savoring the moment. "Oh, I just, you know… intervened," he says with a dramatic flourish, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

“She was flirting with you James.” Remus says bluntly, filling in the gaps of James’ knowledge. 

James looks at Remus with wide eyes, his face flushing a bit as the realization hits him. “What? She was? I—well, I wasn’t paying attention, was I?” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly, still trying to wrap his mind around the situation.

You snicker at James’ obliviousness, then glance at Sirius, whose expression is a perfect mix of satisfaction and mischief. “Well done, siri”

James’s expression brightens with recognition, and he grins playfully. "So you sicced the dog on me, you little minx," he teases. "If you were jealous, you could’ve just said so."

You flush embarrassed to be caught and sink further into Remus’ embrace trying to hide from the teasing.

"Oi, I’m not a bloody dog," Sirius interjects, wrapping an arm around James and pulling him closer. "And you seemed to enjoy that kiss, Prongs."

James laughs, leaning into Sirius’s embrace, still a little dazed but clearly amused. "Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly complaining about it," he says with a wink. "And sorry for making you terribly jealous by accident, lovely."

You huff, "It wasn’t terribly—"

"It was, dove," Remus cuts in, his voice teasing as he remembers the dramatic pout you put on earlier.

"My poor baby," James exclaims, leaning over to pepper kisses all over your face, then doing the same to Remus just because he can.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. You can feel the warmth of Remus’ arms around you, his steady presence grounding you as the teasing continues. James leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, and you can’t help but melt a little into him.

Sirius chuckles at the sight of you relaxing, finally breaking from your earlier pout. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teases, his smirk turning into something softer when you give him a playful shove.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

let me know what you think of this! <3

[22ayla21]

Disease

You are sick, and your partner is taking care of you. With the participation of: Mydei, Phainon, Anaxa

From the Author: I have been sick for three days now and I would really like some comfort from someone.

• He sits next to you, not leaving a single step, as if guarding your sleep. Even if you say that everything is fine, Mydei remains in the room, quiet and focused, watching your breathing and temperature. If necessary, he will sit silently in a chair all night to help at any moment.

• He brings decoctions and medicines, brewed according to old Amphoraean recipes. They are bitter and smell strange, but he looks so seriously and attentively that it is simply impossible to refuse. Moreover, he always checks that you drink to the last drop, even if he needs to hold the cup himself.

• If you are cold, he takes your hands in his without further ado, warms them with his breath, sitting next to you. His body radiates natural heat, so he can literally warm you, like a living heater.

• If you fall asleep, he will straighten the blanket, remove the hair from her face. He can lightly and almost imperceptibly touch your forehead with his lips, checking the fever. For him, this is not something ostentatious - just a natural desire to be close and protect.

• He will build an almost military regime: medications by the hour, only healthy food, bed rest and a complete lack of physical activity. Any attempts to get up are ignored. He will gently but firmly put you back down, making it clear that he is in charge here.

• Anaxa would first conduct his own "research" of the symptoms, writing down every little detail in a notebook. He would be skeptical of conventional treatment methods, choosing the ideal formula for a balanced tea from the rare herbs of Amphoreus.

• He would strictly ask everyone nearby not to make noise and not to disturb you. And he would only allow himself to speak in a hushed voice, staying near the bed and whispering something like: "Silence helps the body concentrate on regeneration."

• Anaxa would clearly draw up a schedule for your rest, food intake and medication. Any deviation would be accompanied by his serious and condemning look.

• And despite all his scientific approach and bold character, Anaxa awkwardly but sincerely held your hand when he thought you were sleeping and whispered: “Just try to get better... I still need your ridiculous hypotheses.”

• When the fever subsided and you came to your senses, Anaxa would arrange quiet conversations, telling you about what he had read while you were ill. All with the hidden purpose of not getting bored and keeping your thoughts away from the illness. "You don't think I'll let you fall behind in knowledge, do you?" he would say, adjusting her pillow.

• If someone from the Grove of Muses wanted to bother you or impose their "treatment", Anaxa would silently stand in the way, looking lazily but coldly: "She is under my protection. And no, your methods do not stand up to criticism." No one argued.

• For his beloved, Phainon has always been a true protector, and when you got sick, he completely enveloped you in all possible care. He carefully monitors your warmth, straightens the blanket, takes care of the silence around and tries to create an atmosphere of peace, as if with his actions he wants to protect you even from illness.

• While you sleep, Phainon stays close. He spends time reading books, not letting you out of sight, periodically checking your condition. These moments of silence are the most exciting for him - he rarely shows his worries, but when you are sick, he cannot hide his inner anxiety, and silently protects your sleep.

• Phainon tries not only to care, but also to cheer you up. When he sees that you are getting bored or sad, he can unexpectedly add a little humor to his care to distract you. He does all this with a serious look, which is why light jokes sound especially warm and sincere, making you smile.

• The most touching moments happen when you are almost falling asleep. Phainon gently brushes the strands of hair from your face, mentally noting how defenseless you look. It is important for him to know that you will recover, because your presence gives him strength. He rarely allows himself such quiet displays of affection, but it is at these moments that care becomes almost sacred.

• When you are sick, Phainon does everything to create an atmosphere of peace around you. He is not intrusive, but his presence is felt constantly - he remains nearby, even if he cannot find words of comfort. Just his silent attention and willingness to come to the rescue give you a feeling of security.

[black-fist-order]

BREAKING: Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy breaks his silence on Donald Trump's disastrous Oval Office outburst with stunning grace and class — but refuses to apologize to Trump as demanded by MAGA.

And the best part? He did it on Fox News.

This is what a real world leader sounds like...

"President Trump said after your meeting that you disrespected him and the vice president and all of America in the Oval Office," said Fox News' Bret Baier when Zelenskyy appeared on his show. "Do you think you did? And do you think you owe an apology to President Trump?"

"Thank you so much. First of all, thank you for the invitation, for this dialogue and good evening to all of your country, to all Americans," said Zelenskyy. "I'm very thankful to Americans for all your support. You did a lot. I'm thankful to President Trump and to Congress's bipartisan support and I was always very thankful from all of our people."

"You helped us a lot from the very beginning, here in three years of full scale invasion. You helped us to survive and anyway we are strategic partners," he continued.

"And even in such tough dialogue — and I think we have to be very honest and we have to be very direct to understand each other because it's for us very necessary," said Zelenskyy.

"To President Trump — and with all respect that he wants to finish this war — but nobody wants to finish more than we because we in Ukraine we are in this war, we are in this battle for freedom, for our lives," he went on.

"So I'm just telling that I think we have to be on the same side and I hope that the president on our side together with us and that is very important to stop Putin," continued Zelenskyy. "And I heard from President Trump a lot of times that he will stop the war and I hope he will. And we need to pressure him with Europe, with all the partners."

"And I think this dialogue had to be a little bit earlier to understand where we are," he continued. "Like you know, I don't remember exactly, but like President Reagan said that peace is not just the absence of war."

"Yes, we are speaking about just, lasting peace, about freedom, about justice, about human rights and that's why I said that 'I think so' to ceasefire," he went on. "And you know Putin, he's broken twenty-five times ceasefire during all these years, ten years."

"So I'm not hearing from you Mr. President a thought that you owe the president an apology," said Baier, clearly trying to pander to Trump who was almost certainly watching at home.

"No I respect the president and I respect the American people and if — I don't know, I think that we have to be very open and very honest and I'm not sure that we did something bad," replied Zelenskyy.

"I think maybe somethings we have to discuss out of media, with all respect to democracy and free media but there are things where we have to understand the position of Ukraine and Ukrainians," he added. "And I think that is the most important thing."

"We are partners. We are very close partners. We have to be fair. We have to be very free," said Zelenskyy, sounding far more like an American president than Donald Trump did today.

This is an astonishing display of statesmanship. Rather than give into ego or pettiness, Zelenskyy is rising above Donald Trump's childish bullying to serve his people.

Zelenskyy isn't interested in following Trump down into the gutter. He's interested in securing a lasting peace for his innocent embattled country, a task made all the more difficult by Trump's kowtowing to Vladimir Putin.

Zelenskyy is also correct that these conversations should take place behind closed doors instead of being exploited to create a media circus. Trump and Vance ambushed him in the Oval Office in front of reporters because they knew that it would make headlines and entertain their base.

They are not serious leaders. Zelenskyy is...!

Please like and share!

[celticjade13]

That isn't the transcript. I heard there was a fake one going around, and it looks like this is it. I pasted the real transcript and linked the source below. Also there's a video so you can confirm for yourself what was said. Trump & Vance are just as terrible and Zelenskyy is just as good, so I don't know why there's a fake one?

J.D. Vance: For four years, in the United States of America, we had a president who stood up in press conferences and talked tough about Vladimir Putin, and then Putin invaded Ukraine and destroyed a significant chunk of the country. The path to peace and the path to prosperity is maybe engaging in diplomacy. We tried the pathway of Joe Biden, of thumping our chest and pretending that the president of the United States’ words mattered more than the president of the United States’ actions. What makes America a good country is America engaging in diplomacy. That’s what President Trump is doing.

Volodymyr Zelensky: He [Putin] occupied various parts of Ukraine in 2014. During that time, it was President Obama, then President Trump, then President Biden, and now it’s President Trump and he will stop him [Putin]. But during 2014, nobody stopped him. He just occupied and took. He killed people. From 2014 till 2022, the situation was the same—people have been dying on the contact line and nobody stopped him. We had a lot of conversations with him, including a bilateral conversation. As a new president in 2019, I signed with him a cease-fire deal alongside Macron and Merkel. All of them told me that he will never go. We also signed a gas contract with him. But after all of that, he broke the cease-fire. He killed our people, and he didn’t exchange prisoners. We signed the exchange of prisoners, but he didn’t do it. What kind of diplomacy, J.D., are you speaking about? What do you mean?

Vance: I’m talking about the kind of diplomacy that’s going to end the destruction of your country. [Zelensky begins to respond] Mr. President, with respect, I think it’s disrespectful for you to come to the Oval Office and try to litigate this in front of the American media. Right now, you guys are going around and forcing conscripts to the front lines because you have manpower problems—you should be thanking the president for trying to bring an end to this conflict.

Zelensky: Have you ever been to Ukraine to see what problems we have? Come once.

Vance: I’ve actually watched and seen the stories, and I know what happens is you bring people on a propaganda tour, Mr. President. Do you disagree that you’ve had problems bringing people in your military, and do you think that it’s respectful to come to the Oval Office of the United States of America and attack the administration that is trying to prevent the destruction of your country?

Zelensky: First of all, during the war, everybody has problems, even you. But you have a nice ocean and don’t feel [the problems] now. But you will feel it in the future.

Donald Trump: You don’t know that.

Zelensky: God bless, you will not have war.

Trump: Don’t tell us what we’re going to feel. We’re trying to solve a problem.

Zelensky: I’m not. I’m answering the question that…

Trump: You’re in no position to dictate what we’re going to feel. We’re going to feel very good.

Zelensky: You are going to feel influenced…

Trump: We’re going to feel very good and very strong. You’re, right now, not in a very good position. You’ve allowed yourself to be in a very bad position. You don’t have the cards right now with us. [Zelensky continues speaking] You’re gambling with the lives of millions of people. You’re gambling with World War Three. You’re gambling with World War Three, and what you’re doing is very disrespectful to this country that’s backed you far more than a lot of people say they should have.

Vance: Have you said thank you once?

Zelensky: A lot of times.

Vance: No, in this entire meeting, have you said thank you? You went to Pennsylvania and campaigned for the opposition in October. Offer some words of appreciation for the United States of America and the president who’s trying to save your country.

Zelensky: Please, you think that if you will speak very loudly…

Trump: He is not speaking loudly. Your country is in big trouble.

Zelensky: I know. Can I ask…

Trump: No, no, you’ve done a lot of talking. Your country is in big trouble.

Zelensky: I know.

Trump: You’re not winning this. You have a damn good chance of coming out okay because of us.

Zelensky: Mr. President, we are staying strong in our country. From the very beginning of the war we’ve been alone and we are thankful. I said thank you in this cabinet.

Trump: We gave you, through this stupid president, $350 billion. We gave you military equipment. Your men are brave but they have used our military equipment. If you didn’t have our military equipment, this war would have been over in two weeks.

Zelensky: In three days, yes. I heard it from Putin.

Trump: It’s going to be a very hard thing to do business like this.

Vance: Just say thank you.

Zelensky: I said thank you—I say thank you to the American people.

Vance: Accept that there are disagreements, and let’s go litigate those disagreements, rather than trying to fight it out in the American media, when you’re wrong. We know that you’re wrong.

Trump: You see, I think it’s good for the American people to see what’s going on. I think it’s very important. That’s why I kept this going so long. You have to be thankful. You don’t have the cards. You’re buried there. You people are dying. You’re running low on soldiers. Listen, you’re running low on soldiers. It would be a damn good thing. Then you tell us, “I don’t want to cease fire. I don’t want to cease fire.” If you could get a cease-fire right now, I tell you, you take it so the bullets stop flying and your men stop getting killed.

Zelensky: Yes, of course I want to stop the war. But, as I’ve said to you, with guarantees. Ask our people about the cease-fire, what do they think.

Trump: That wasn’t me. That was with a guy named Biden, who was not a smart person. That was with Obama, who gave you sheets. I gave you javelins. I gave you the javelins to take out all those tanks. Obama gave you sheets. In fact, the statement is Obama gave sheets and Trump gave javelins. You got to be more thankful, because, let me tell you, you don’t have the cards. With us, you have the cards, but without us, you don’t have any cards. It’ll be a tough deal to make because the attitudes have to change.

Source:

the transcript btw. It was hard to make it out on the video because of the blowhards yelling and me feeling incandescently blind and deaf with rage

oh, to have a leader with the moral fiber and strong backbone that Zelenskyy has

[wandaslovey]

ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ᴅᴇᴛᴋᴀ?

➺ dom!wandanat x sub!fem!reader

word count ~ 7.2k

summary: as you settle into your relationship with your two new dominants, they want to show you it’s not all about kinkery. however, their plan backfires when you run into an old friend while on a picnic date. it seems..necessary for them to remind you of who you now belong to.

authors note: part 3!!!! i cannot apologize enough for how long it took me to get this one out! writers block had me in a chokehold and then choke slammed me onto the table. i hope this lives up to the hype! <3 this part takes place a couple of months after the contract has been signed. this is not proofread.

content warning(s): legal age gap, dom/sub dynamics, mommy!wanda, daddy!natasha, sub!reader, subspace, some fluff, jealous wandanat, sort of punishment? (more like claiming), possession, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, light bondage, dirty talk, a teensie weensie bit of aftercare

venturing is inevitable: masterlist

═════════════

you hear light chuckling in your left ear, followed by the sensation of gentle kisses being bestowed along the right side of your face. you make a small sound, your nose scrunching at the attention your face was getting. you peek your eyes open, blinking rapidly as you adjust to the morning light bathing the master bedroom. the curtains were light, allowing the sun to stream in and brighten the room as it rose with the day.

“good morning, dragotsennaya,” you hear natasha murmur in her warm voice. in the near 2 months you’d moved in with the power couple, you’d since learned the russian term of endearment meant ‘precious’ which would then usually be tossed in different variations like “precious girl” or “precious thing.” you’d melted when you first learned what they meant. both women truly did view you as the most precious, adorable thing on earth.

“mmm, morning,” you mumble out, closing your eyes again and turning on your right side to face wanda. she was still planting gentle kisses on your cheeks and nose, trying to coax you from your peaceful slumber.

you’d grown used to sleeping between them. there was a spare bedroom for their submissive should they choose to use it, but you never wanted to be apart from them, so you always opted for sleeping in their large bed with them—which they never complained.

when you stubbornly refused to open your eyes despite wanda’s incessant kisses and natasha’s hand running up and down your arm, wanda opts for something else to get you awake and out of bed.

“you know what sounds like a good breakfast this morning?” wanda begins her little game, her tone of voice easily catching your attention as she speaks over you to address her wife.

“what’s that?” natasha plays along, quickly gathering where wanda was heading with her little quip.

“waffles.. with chocolate chips..” wanda speaks slowly, glancing down at your face with a grin as she notices your eyes peel open, a cute smile of your own gracing your lips.

“i’m up!” you proclaim cheerily, quickly sitting up in bed. the covers fall off of you, revealing the simple tank top they’d redressed you in after last nights “activities.”

they both chuckle affectionately at your sudden wakeful state simply at the promise of having your favorite breakfast.

“i’ll race you downstairs.” natasha challenges in a low voice, a teasing grin curling her lips upward as she throws her legs over the bed and briskly heads for the bedroom door.

“no! i wasn’t ready!” you squeak, clambering up out of the bed. you barely register the cool air on your naked legs, just a pair of panties covering your lower half. natasha has mercy on you, allowing you to all but shove past her to throw open the door and run down the stairs.

wanda calls after the two of you, telling you to be careful, but you both ignore her, throwing caution to the wind as you hurry down the stairs.

there were many things you’d come to learn about both wanda and natasha in the months you’d been here. one of them being that natasha hated to lose. she was as competitive as a person could be, so when she saw you land on the hard wood flooring after leaping off the last step, she put more force into her jog and made up the extra space between the two of you.

just as you were about to make it to the kitchen, natasha comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your torso. she effortlessly lifts you up and drops you off to the side, setting you off balance. before you can scramble to get back on course, natasha had already successfully set foot in the kitchen, making you the loser.

“hey, that wasn’t fair! you cheated!” you protest, crossing your arms over your chest as you march over to where she was standing by the kitchen island. she wasn’t even winded.

“i didn’t cheat. it’s called strategy.” she grins, tapping your nose. you huff at her response, swatting her hand away from your face.

“that’s a load.” you grumble, your eyes narrowing at natasha’s haughty expression. a flicker of sternness passes over her face as you hit her hand away, as if she was a little surprised at your audacity.

“i’m going to let that slide, only because you have the most adorable sore loser face…” her firm expression turns back into an amused look as she leans down and gets close to your face. you pout as she mocks you, her lips kissing your adorable droopy lip before she pulls away, intent on starting breakfast.

wanda makes her way down the stairs and to the kitchen, following the sound of light banter. she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your jaw. your wrap your arms around hers, melting back into her affection as you watch natasha gather the ingredients for the waffle mixture.

“natalia, dumayu, segodnya ya khochu poprobovat'.” she speaks over your shoulder in their secret language. it frustrated you just as much as it turned you on. whenever they didn’t want you to know something, they’d revert to speaking in russian.

once, you’d questioned how they both knew the language. you were surprised to learn that it was actually natasha’s native language and that wanda had learned it when she studied abroad in russia for two years—where they’d met.

you wished you could learn the language, if nothing else to de-code the secret remarks they’d make right in front of your face, but you weren’t patient enough to try and learn a second language.

natasha smiles at whatever wanda said, simply nodding her head. you feel wanda’s hands slide back a little bit, her fingertips making their way beneath your tank top to caress the soft skin there. you shiver, goosebumps rising on your arms at the delicate touch. her hands travel further upwards before descending back down your sides. she gives your hips a small squeeze, planting a kiss on your head before unwrapping herself from around you all together and pulling away.

you frown at the loss, turning to face her before she can walk away. you reach for her hands, your expression silently trying to convey your wants.

she chuckles at your pleading look, giving your hands a squeeze. “i have to help make breakfast. you wanna help me and daddy?” she asks in a gentle voice, her thumb rubbing across the back of your hand.

between wanda’s affection and the use of their honorifics, you could feel the beginning stages of that foggy feeling in your brain. you simply nod your head, allowing wanda to pull you further into the kitchen.

you all weave gracefully through each other as the three of you make breakfast, almost like it was a practiced routine. you took notice of natasha’s lingering hands on your hips as she snuck behind you and the way wanda gently held your hand to whisk the ingredients in the bowl before letting go.

it took a little bit of time for you at first to comfortably transition from having a clear head to a foggy one—one that relied so heavily on wanda and natasha that you deeply craved to be told each and every move to make—but you quickly became fond of it. they were your safe space and maybe the only place where you could fully allow all your inhibitions go.

natasha sets the table with plates and kitchenware just as you and wanda scooped up the last batch of waffles from the hot iron.

“kay, bring these over to daddy.” wanda turns you towards the kitchen table, patting your bum as you walk away obediently with the plate of waffles. you bring the food over to the table, setting the plate next to some fresh fruit and the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

one thing you’d learned about wanda was that she loved to garden, so whenever produce was involved it usually came from there instead of the store.

as you move to sit down, natasha is hasty in slithering to sit in the chair before you can, pulling you back into her lap. you smirk, wiggling your hips back against her.

“what? i can’t feed myself?” you joke, twisting your body so you can face natasha just as wanda takes the seat adjacent to you both at the end of the table.

“no.” she replies simply, taking you a bit off guard. your remark was meant to be a light quip, but natasha seemed serious in her reply. without any further explanation, she grabs a plate from the small stack set in front of you and uses her fingers to grab two waffles to put on the dish.

you watch as she uses the fork to cut a square off the waffle before stabbing it through the center and bringing it up towards your lips. you press them together stubbornly, feeling embarrassed at the notion of being fed like a small child.

you were very independent by nature, having had to learn how to care for yourself at a very young age. the way wanda and natasha had the tendency to coddle you was pleasant, but still slightly foreign even after these past months.

natasha sees the internal conflict flicker over your face, coloring your features with a stubborn expression. she was learning though that at your core, you wanted to be a good girl.

“open up, detka,” she coaxes, delicately twirling her fork in teasing manner. you frown slightly, glancing from the fork over to wanda as if you were looking for her to intervene. she simply nods back towards the fork in an encouraging manner, not providing you with the out you were looking for.

figuring you should just bite the bullet and let natasha feed you, you part your lips and accept the bite of waffle she was offering you.

“we thought we could have a picnic lunch at central park today—does that sound fun?��� wanda asks casually as she serves some berries on her plate. you nod your head in agreement, always eager to spend extra time with them on the weekends when you had no school and they didn’t have to go into the office.

as natasha continues to feed you your waffle, she sneaks in bites of her own. wanda reaches over after you swallow your last bite, holding a raspberry just inches from your lips. you don’t hesitate this time to open your mouth and allow her to feed you the berry. you chew the fruit thoughtfully, swallowing it and you notice wanda has a pleased expression on her face.

“you’re awfully cute, milaya, you know that?” wanda traces down the slope of your nose, gently pinching the softest part before dropping her hand. you open your mouth to protest, but knowing what you might say, natasha quickly feeds you another bite of waffle. you turn to face her, narrowing your eyes slightly at her playful force feeding.

you finish the rest of your breakfast without protest or complaint, allowing the two of them to spoil and baby you. once everyone was done, you all help to clean up the table. you always did your best to do your part, helping around the house and cleaning up after yourself. plus, you liked doing everything with them. you never wanted to miss a moment.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

you rock back and forth on your toes, waiting for wanda and natasha to finish gathering all the things you need for the picnic. your hand is on the garage door handle, the door gently swaying from left to right as it rocks with your own movement. you feel carefree, not a single worry in your head. that was mostly thanks to both wanda and natasha coddling you this morning, but it was also the fact that you knew there was nothing to be stressed or worried about as long as you were with them.

natasha had dressed you today. it was late spring, so it was finally okay weather for things like summer dresses. you had on a maroon spaghetti strap dress going down to your mid thigh. you didn’t normally wear anything red or within the family of reds, but natasha insisted the color looked beautiful on your skin tone.

“i see someone is ready and eager to go,” natasha comments as she and wanda finally walk down the hallway leading to where you were standing by the garage door.

“i am! let’s go already!” your excitement is clear in your tone. it was the first day all week the three of you had time to really connect and unplug from all other responsibilities. you were waiting on pins and needles for finals to be over so you could finally enjoy your summer break, but for now—weekends would suffice.

natasha pinches your side on the way out as you hold the door open for them, wanda affectionately grabbing your chin and giving it a small squeeze. you follow after wanda, the door swinging shut behind you.

“can i drive??” you ask eagerly, already heading to the drivers side even though you hadn’t yet received an answer. they had three cars—one for natasha, one for wanda and one for “joy rides.” it was an indulgence natasha simply could not surpass, since she loved driving fast and had a secret love for lavish cars. she didn’t take it out much and you had yet to see wanda use it, but despite your desire to obey traffic laws like speed limits—you did want to try driving it someday.

“we’re not taking that car, bunny. we’re taking wanda’s. c’mon let’s go.” natasha gestures for you to get into the backseat on the drivers side. she started calling you bunny shortly after her and wanda both observed you hopped around like a little bunny whenever you were on your way to or fully in your floaty headspace. it was cute, but you had yet to admit to either of them just how much you liked it.

you pout at tasha’s response, but otherwise swiftly obey and climb into the seat behind her. despite it being wanda’s car, whenever the three of you went anywhere, natasha always drove. she claimed it was because she liked driving, but you were almost positive it was really because she didn’t think wanda drove fast enough.

“here, baby.” wanda stretches the cord for the aux cable so it can reach you. you slide to the middle seat, grabbing it from her and plugging your phone in.

as natasha pulls out of the garage, you buckle before either of them can throw a stink about it.

“what’re we feeling today?” you ask, referring to the music. you took having the aux very seriously. you never wanted anyone in the car to be having a miserable time listening to your music, so you always aimed to please to the best of your ability.

“not country.”

“anything really.”

the two of them answer in unison. you smile to yourself, your finger resting up against your lip as you scroll through different playlists, trying to decide what to play. you settle on your “vibey” playlist which had a lot of alternative and electronic music on it. it was one of your favorites to listen to.

you spend the first part of the drive staring out the window, watching the landscape as it zooms past the glass. it didn’t take long for you to start singing quietly to yourself—a habit of yours when you were zoning out. wanda notices immediately, smiling to herself and glancing back at you from the rear view mirror. trying to be discreet, she reaches for the volume, turning it down ever so slightly so she could hear you better. you didn’t like to sing for people, despite being told you had a good voice. you were sure people were just saying that because that’s the nice thing to say to people.

you stop singing altogether when wanda turns it down just a tad more and you suddenly decide your own voice sounds much too loud.

wanda scoffs, rolling her eyes as she turns her neck to look back at you. “you little sneak. why won’t you let us hear you sing?” she asks, seeming all too interested in your secret talent.

you shrug nonchalantly, flicking an imaginary piece of lint off the hem of your dress. you didn’t want to tell her it was because you were embarrassed. you’d learned that admitting such a thing would only lead to being more embarrassed about the thing you were already embarrassed about.

“i’ve heard her sing.” natasha cuts in, both you and wanda looking to her.

“you have not.” you rebuttal in disbelief, looking at her in the rear view mirror.

“i have. you sing in the shower.” she says simply, a smirk curving her lips upward. she seemed all too amused at your reaction for your liking.

“i’m so quiet when i sing in there! there’s no way you can hear it..” you insist, though really you were trying to push to see if she was being honest or just pulling your leg.

“it’s not too quiet when i have my ear pressed up against the door.” she sniffs, the car slowing down as you approach the city. the traffic would slow the drive immensely.

this side of natasha surprised you at first—the silly, almost boyish attitude she seemed to have at times. wanda’s personality was more straight forward. there were some things that surprised you and would probably continue to surprise you—but natasha? the many aspects of her personality were being peeled back layer by layer. in less than three months you’ve learned there’s much more to her than the big, scary, intimidating lawyer she was at the office.

“wow. just wow. thanks. now i have to revert to only singing whenever i have the house to myself.” you roll your eyes, only jokingly exasperated. natasha blindly reaches back behind her, squeezing your knee. you nudge her hand away, scooting so you weren’t so accessible.

“now that you said that, i’ll have to install cameras in the house—catch you in the act. i don’t want to miss anything.” she says, grinning to herself at the thought.

“hey!” you unbuckle your seatbelt, sitting forward and smacking her on the arm. “do. not. even think about it.” you try to sound stern, but it pales in comparison to how either of them sound when they mean business.

natasha locks eyes with yours in the rear view mirror, her expression easily meaner than yours. “do you want to try that again, little girl?” you cower immediately, sitting back against the back seat, your shoulders slumped forward.

you give her an apologetic look through the mirror, folding your arms in your lap.

“put your seatbelt back on, detka.” wanda commands in a gentle tone—more gentle than natasha’s tone just was. you’re hasty to comply, the buckle clicking in place just seconds after she asked you to. you were so obedient more times than not. it was something they both loved about you. you still had your testy moments, but by enlarge you really did like being their good girl.

many stoplights and cutting people off later, you arrive at the park. natasha parks in a metered spot on the south side. you hop out of the car, bounding off in the direction of where you intend to set up for the picnic.

“(y/n), slow down! wait for tasha and i.” wanda scolds you gently. you skip back over to her, almost running right into her side as you approach. “carefully bunny.” she steadies you but you can hardly care as you grin up at her, simply excited to be here with them.

“alright, let’s go.” she laces her fingers through yours with her free hand, the other carrying the blanket you would all sit on. natasha walks in front of the two of you, leading the way as she carries a decent-sized cooler in her hand.

once you make it to the grassy area, wanda picks a spot, laying the large blanket out neatly so there aren’t any lumps or wrinkles. natasha sets the cooler down and you plop down before the two of them have even begun to sink to the ground. you open up the lid to the food basket, setting out the plastic cutlery. wanda helps you divvy out the food—sandwiches and fruit. you pour yourself some homemade sweet tea, taking a sip and humming appreciatively to yourself. everything tasted better when it was made from wanda’s hands—or natasha’s for that matter, but wanda did much more cooking and food prep than natasha did.

you take a bite of your sandwich, wanda briefly explaining something about a client to natasha as you nibble away at your food. you were in your own little world, happy and content to be just where you were with the women you were with.

you were chewing another bite when someone from a distance shouted your name. natasha caught onto it before you did, her eyes scanning through the people scattered across the grass in small groupings.

you hear it the third time, relinquishing your hold on your sandwich to search for the person belonging to the voice calling your name. you press your hand against your forehead, attempting to shield the brightness of the sun so you could see better. your eyes suddenly zero in on the person shouting for you. it was your old roommate.

“hey!!!” you call back after her, leaping to your feet and half running the distance over to where she was standing. the two of you embrace happily, and you feel her squeeze you tightly before finally letting you go. you loved your old roommate. she was exactly the sort of person you wanted in your life forever. you wondered what she was doing back here so soon after moving back home.

“what’re you doing here?? did you bring your family?” you ask her, glancing around to see if you saw anyone else you recognized. she explained that she was with her parents and was going to spend the weekend taking them to the many touristy places the city had to offer.

as the two of you catch up, you excitedly relay to her how your studies were going and how the one professor that seemed to have it out for you was now much less harsh with feedback and grading. you left out the detail about how natasha was the one to take care of that—not feeling quite up to explaining your current situation with the two most respected and feared lawyers in new york city.

“so did you find a new roommate? i know the rent is damn near impossible to cover on your own..” your friend asks casually, flipping her pretty hair behind her shoulder. there was a time when you had a little crush on her, but she never knew about it.

“oh! uh.. not exactly. but! i did find a way to continue paying for it..” you reply vaguely, clearing your throat as you try and quickly think of a new topic of conversation. she beats you to it.

“what do you mean? did you finally cave and start selling feet pics?” she playfully nudges you with her elbow, reminding you of an old joke you used to pull out often. you laugh with her, though yours sounded a little nervous. you didn’t want to tell her how your rent, tuition and student loans were currently all being paid by previously mentioned, hot, successful lawyers.

it was a battle you picked with the two of them for weeks, insisting they didn’t need to pay for any of your things. however, the persisted and ultimately made you agree to the fact that, as long as you were their submissive, all of your financial needs would be taken care of by them.

“no, it’s not that,” your nervous laughter dies off and you awkwardly scratch the side of your arm, glancing in the direction of where wanda and natasha were sitting. your roommate follows where your eyes go, her own widening in slight surprise as she connects the dots.

“holy shit—are you with them??” she asks, vaguely pointing a finger in their direction. you shrug, smiling sheepishly as you suddenly feel like a little kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“girl—what?! how??” you laugh lightly at her eager interest, placing a hand on her arm as you shush her. her excitement caused her voice to raise about two octaves.

“keep your voice down..” you chide although with a smile still on your face. you weren’t sure how to begin telling her the story. there was so much to it. you take a breath, preparing yourself to share the condensed version, but as you glance in wanda and natasha’s direction again, you notice the two of them are staring at you intently. the intensity of both their looks causes goosebumps to rise on your arms, your spine straightening. it was an unspoken command to come back.

“i probably shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.. but i’ll call you soon and we’ll continue to catch up, yeah?” you smile, though you suddenly feel rushed to get back to your girlfriends’ side.

your roommate looks at you suspiciously but agrees nevertheless to have you call her another time. she pulls you into another embrace, and you give her a friendly squeeze, silently conveying your love and appreciation for her. you say your final goodbyes, your hands reached out to hold the other before dropping as you walk your separate ways.

as you approach the two women sitting on the quilted blanket, you opt for heading towards the one who currently has the more welcoming energy—natasha in this case—plopping down next to her.

“who was that?” she asks, looking back in your roommates direction as she walks off to meet back with her parents.

“my old roommate.” you reply simply, intent on returning to eating the sandwich you were enjoying before you got up to greet your friend. as nothing but silence met your response, you look up and glance in between wanda and natasha. wanda had a strange expression on her face—one you hadn’t seen before. her eyes were hard and serious, her lips pressed in a firm line, but there was something of a daring glint in her eye as if she was thinking something she wasn’t going to say out loud.

“you two seemed close,” she blurts out after several seconds. you take a bite of your sandwich, the food sitting heavily on your tongue as you chew it slowly. there was something about the change in wanda and natasha’s demeanor—wanda’s especially—that had you feeling a little uneasy.

“i mean, we lived together so we became kind of close. she’s a great friend.” you keep your tone light, sensing there was some.. jealousy? you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was they were feeling about your interaction.

“you’re not..jealous..are you?” you look at wanda as you ask the question. natasha looks to wanda too, knowing all too well what was running through her mind.

wanda looks off into the distance, squinting slightly at the brightness of the sun and she smirks. “jealous? no. i just haven’t ever seen you interact with another girl your age before. i’m not sure i like it.” her tone was thoughtful, almost reminiscent. you study her expression, unsure how to take what she said before she inclines her head back towards you.

“oh.” you reply stupidly, no other response coming to mind. your eyes drift from wanda’s, looking off in the distance now just as she had before.

“(y/n).” wanda calls your attention back to her. your eyes snap back to her impossibly green ones.

“yes?” you reply softly.

“you belong to me—to us. you know that, don’t you?” she asks, sitting forward so she was leaning in your direction.

“yes.” you respond, nodding your head in quick agreeance.

“yes, who?” she prompts, quirking a perfectly kempt brow at you.

you swallow thickly, your eyes darting around your surroundings to see if anyone was standing close enough to hear. when your eyes meet wanda’s once more, you have a slight nervous expression on your face, feeling embarrassed at addressing her with her honorific in public.

“yes, mommy.” you relent with a quiet reply, wanting to please her despite your discomfort.

“say it all together now.” she directs, reaching out to grab your wrists. she guides you forward, pulling you till you’re sitting in her lap. you can’t help but glance anxiously around the park, hoping that nobody was paying close attention to this public display of affection.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, the pink color on your cheeks complimenting the maroon dress you had on.

“i belong to you, mommy—you and daddy.” you half whisper, squirming in her lap as you fiddle with your dress, making sure all the important parts were still covered.

wanda smiles, pleased with your response despite your shyness. she caresses the back of your head, pecking your lips before looking over your shoulder to natasha.

“we’re going home.” she announces with an air of finality, leaving no room for questioning.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

the drive back home was silent. you buckled in before natasha put the car into drive. wanda never offered you the aux, so you watched out the window quietly the whole way home. you were squirming in your seat, sensing a certain type of tension you were only now becoming accustomed too. you knew you weren’t in trouble, but something was going to happen. you were sure of it.

as natasha pulls into the driveway, you can feel butterflies flapping around in your stomach. there was dull ache between your thighs as you thought of the way wanda responded to your impromptu conversation with your old roommate. you didn’t realize it before now, but you decided you liked the idea of being owned—possessed. which was exactly what wanda was aiming to convey.

natasha puts the car into park and just as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt, wanda turns back to face you. “head straight upstairs into our bedroom. don’t take any clothes off for now. just wait for us on the bed.” she instructs you. you nod your head and hop out of the car, quickly making your way to the master bedroom from the garage.

your footsteps are quick and calculated; they echo off the walls as you bound up the stairs. as you approach the bedroom, you push open the door which was open a crack already. the bed was made and the room was free of clutter. normally this scene of cleanliness and order would put you at ease, but now, it only reminded you of the two women downstairs—and how neat they liked things to be kept.

you swallow thickly, turning to face the door as you sit on the end of the bed. your legs dangle just slightly, the bed tall enough that your legs didn’t quite reach the floor. you bounce one of them nervously, chewing on your bottom lip as you eye the open door. you can hear the garage door closing, indicating that wanda and natasha were now inside the house. you hear them exchange some words, though you’re unable to make out anything as it’s in russian. you can make out the sound of some rummaging, like dropping down bags and setting keys on the table. every second that passes, you feel your body growing more tense with anticipation. your eyes fall to the floor, focusing on one spot in which you make out imaginary shapes and lines.

your eyes snap back to the door frame when you hear two sets of footsteps heading up the stairs. from where you were sitting, you’d be able to see them as soon as they stood on the landing. you mentally brace yourself, your every sense alight.

it’s natasha you see first. her shoulder length blonde hair in delicate curls that frame her pretty face. her face is smooth, giving nothing away as her green eyes lock onto yours. you only glance away once wanda steps into view, her eyes appraising your compliance; you’d done exactly what she asked you to do.

natasha steps directly in front of you, her face a head above yours. you tilt your head up to look at her, your eyes alert and observant, but you’re unable to hide the gnawing sense of nervousness coursing through your body.

natasha leans down, your faces now just inches apart. she licks her lips, watching your cheeks bloom with color at her closeness.

“are you nervous, dragotsennaya?” her accent bleeds into her words, causing your thighs to clench unconsciously. you shrug one shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.

“maybe a little bit…” your voice is soft and delicate which doesn’t exactly not align with just how you’re feeling in this moment.

“maybe a little bit?” natasha echoes your words in an equally soft voice, her switch up of tone indicative of faux sympathy. your bottom lip juts out at her obvious teasing and your eyes dart to the side in search for wanda’s.

“you guys aren’t mad at me, are you?” you search for the gentleness normally residing behind wanda’s stare as you look at her. you can see a glimmer of it, but mostly you see a darkness there—something you’ve only gotten a small glimpse of before. it was the sort of look that made your bones melt, like she was silently trying to communicate her need to devour you.

“oh sweet girl.. we’re not mad at you. we just want to make sure we properly convey the way in which we own you.” wanda says, her words meant to be somewhat placating, but they had the opposite effect. she stalks towards you, standing right next to her wife. you look between the two of them with a blank expression on your face, your heart now beginning to race in your chest.

“i’m…i..i know that..” you sputter out. natasha reaches a hand up, rubbing her thumb along your bottom lip as you look at her wife with a pleading expression. pleading for what? you’re not sure.

“i know you do, baby. i just want to hear you say it over and over again…” wanda leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that surprises you. your body leans back with the force of it, your hands hesitantly coming to rest on her biceps. wanda captures your wrists with her hands, pinning them behind your back as she nudges you back against the bed and covers your body with her own.

you whimper as she parts your lips with her tongue. the kiss was slow but forceful, your mind becoming cloudy the more she explored your mouth.

her free hand comes up and grabs under your chin, holding your face in place so you can’t escape even to take a breath. you were more so used to this aggression from natasha, not wanda, so it surprised you when she suddenly bit down on your lip, the force of it causing you to moan in surprise.

she breaks free, your lips parting with a resounding pop before she kisses down your neck. you gasp for air, your hands twitching in her grasp as they yearn to tangle themselves in her hair. you’re unable to linger on that thought though as you feel natasha’s fingers tracing along your thigh where your dress has ridden up.

“you look so pretty like this, milaya… gasping for air while my wife gives you little love bites.” natasha muses, her hand now grabbing a fistful of the fat of your thigh. you squirm underneath their touch, fighting more earnestly to get your arms free.

wanda relinquishes her attack on your neck with a firm bite, pulling away to admire her work. several blotches of purple and red are smattered across the skin, not too far off from the color of your dress.

“stand up.” wanda demands as she pulls you to your feet. you falter to the side, feeling unbalanced as you were suddenly upright. she doesn’t give you time to adjust before she’s pulling your dress over your head. you try to match her haste, reaching for her own clothes as she undresses you. she catches your wrists again, pinning them to your sides.

“oh no. not now, pretty girl. let’s not deviate from what this is really about.” she’s quick with removing your undergarments. as you stand there naked before the two of them, wanda pauses for the first time since she’s attacked you. you can see ideas forming together in her eyes as she drinks in your naked body.

“mogu li ya prikosnut'sya k ney seychas?” natasha asks her wife.

wanda appraises you for another moment, a smile stretching across her lips as she runs a finger down your arm.

“ty mozhesh' sdelat' bol'she, chem eto.” she responds, moving past you to crawl up the bed. you glance behind you, unsure what was going on. your skin felt like it was on fire, the anticipation causing your arousal to now start to drip down onto your thighs.

“come here.” wanda curls her finger, directing you to come sit on her lap from her spot on the bed. you crawl up to her, beginning to straddle her lap, but she stops you.

“ah ah, the other way.” she places her hands on your hips, turning your body so your back was against her front. she spreads her legs, settling you in between them. the fabric of her pants rubs against your bare legs, causing you to shiver. if it weren’t for your fuzzy brain, you might feel embarrassed about your nakedness and the lack thereof from both wanda and natasha.

natasha makes her way up onto the bed, her body slithering up as she maneuvers so she’s laying on her stomach, her face just inches away from your now weeping core.

“spread your legs wider, baby… yeah.. just like that.” wanda praises as she guides your legs apart so your feet were hooked under the outer part of her spread ankles.

“fuck, if this isn’t my new favorite sight..” natasha’s eyes drink in the two of you, your exposed body unable to sit still as you begin to grind your hips into the air. she runs her hands up the outside of your thighs, sliding inward. her finger teases your slit, running down and gathering the wetness collecting at your hole.

you whine, your back arching off wanda’s front into natasha’s touch. they were used to this—your whining and whimpering. you never said much when they had you all needy like this. you were much too shy for your own good.

natasha kisses up your thigh, her tongue darting out to taste the skin where there was a crevice where your thigh and core met. she moans at the flavor. your hands twitch again, drifting along your torso till they rest atop of natasha’s head.

“hands at your side. or mommy’s gonna have to tie them behind your back. do you understand?” wanda chides, moving your hands away from natasha’s hair. you pant, nodding your head against her.

“say it.” she demands.

“yes, mommy,” you whimper pathetically, your hips wriggling in between her thighs. your eyes drift closed, your head lolling against wanda’s shoulder as you try not to combust from the slow build up.

just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, natasha’s tongue slips in between your folds, licking along your slit. you gasp at the feeling of her hot breath as she works her mouth against you. your hips grind into her, her hands coming up to try and still your movements.

she hums against your pussy, your moans filling the air as she eats you out like you’re the most delicious thing to walk the earth.

wanda’s hands run up and down your sides, eventually settling on your breasts as she gives them both a firm squeeze. her fingers circle your pretty nipples as natasha’s tongue circles your clit. when wanda pinches your nipples, natasha sucks your clit into her mouth, and when wanda twists your nipples, natasha gently nibbles at your bundle of nerves. they moved so in sync with one another, you’d think this was a practiced routine. they played your body like an instrument they’d been practicing on for years.

moans and whines spill from your lips, your body wriggling around as much as the two women would allow you to.

“does this feel good, baby? do you like daddy’s tongue licking your pretty pussy while mommy plays with your sensitive little nipples?” wanda murmurs in your ear. you whine, nodding your head against her again.

“use your words, (y/n). tell me.” she pinches your nipples, twisting them harshly when you hesitate.

“y-yes mommy!” you gasp out, feeling natasha fuck two fingers inside of you. the stretch felt wonderful, the slight sting only adding to the pleasure you were feeling.

“hmm, you know something, little girl? nobody is ever going to make you feel this good. just mommy and daddy. our girl. our sweet, precious little girl..” as wanda speaks, natasha’s tongue and fingers move more quickly, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. you moan louder, the sounds higher in pitch, indicating you were getting close to falling over the edge.

“you can’t cum, baby. not until i hear you say you’re ours..” wanda speaks the words slowly, emphasizing the last word by tweaking your nipples.

“mmfph.. yours.. ‘m yours..” you pant, your hips grinding earnestly against natasha’s face now.

“louder.” she commands.

you arch your back again, your body writhing between the sensations blooming across your whole body as they expertly play with you.

“eto slishkom mnogo? is it too much, detka?” wanda coos, her tone contrasting with the roughness of her touch.

“please! please!! ‘m gonna cum!” you squeak, your words meant to be a warning as you knew you couldn’t hold it much longer.

“don’t you fucking dare. say it.” she says darkly. between wanda’s words, natasha’s fingers curling perfectly against your g spot and her tongue lapping at your clit while wanda tortures your nipples, you were about to implode.

“yours!! i’m yours!! i’m all yours! yours and daddy’s! no one else can make me feel this good!” you half shout in desperation, the coil about to snap.

“that’s it… come on baby, cum for us.” she croons, her lips directly against your ear. your body shakes, all your muscles tightening at once before you fall over the edge. your hips roll against natasha’s face in time with the waves of your orgasm. neither of them stop their ministrations until your body finally goes limp and you slump back against wanda.

natasha places one last searing kiss to your sensitive clit, chuckling softly as she leans up on her arms, pecking you on your lips.

“take some deep breaths, baby. we’re not done just yet.” she speaks softly, your eyes open but unfocused as you look at her. she caresses the side of your face and you barely register wanda’s hands caressing up and down your arms.

you whimper, your eyes closing as your body feels spent. you hear both of them chuckle at your expense, their hands sliding all over your sensitive skin.

you were in for a long evening.

——————————

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comment to be added :)

[iimplicitt]

hiii 🤠 anon here

how do you feel about writing for mafia lando where he’s married to the reader who’s not his choice it’s basically an arrangement and his family hates her and she’s having a really hard time in his house and Lando doesn’t notice and he’s cold and one day her family causes her to have a panic attack and he sees her in his room all small and scared and then he helps her and makes her a feel better and etc something about a heated confession and people being put in their place. if you do write this thank you :)

HAPPINESS IS A BUTTERFLY | LN4

pairings: mafia! lando x arranged marriage reader

an/warnings: arranged marriage, violence, mentions of abusive parents, angst, panic attacks, fluff, hea

wc: 5.2k

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

He bit the inside of his cheek as he watched the sleek back car roll up in the long drive way from his office. Windows tinted but he could make out the faint outline of a person as they moved around before Oscar got out of the car to open the door for its passenger.

His new wife.

The words tasted sour on his tongue as he drank some of his whiskey, not caring that it was nine in the morning. He needed a pick-me-up for the day that was ahead.

Gleaming hair caught in the sunlight, a delicate hand with a blinding diamond hesitantly taking Oscar’s as red bottom Louis’ met the pavement.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he watched you, mere curiosity to see how you acted when he wasn’t around. When the wedding happened it was short and extravagant. All the glitz and glamour expected of such a pair. A politician's daughter and a booming business man whose money usually came tinted red. A shame that most of the world didn’t know your fathers money was just as dirty as his.

It was an alliance in London’s eyes. A step towards peace.

He hadn’t even seen you until the white lace veil was lifted.

You were pretty but that wasn’t enough to suddenly sway his mind into liking the whole arrangement. He didn’t have much choice. Having coppers on a payroll was a deal too good to pass up, so he agreed. Shook hands. It hadn’t mattered much, not in the long run. Lando was always busy. Always working. If a marriage hadn’t been forced upon him, he didn’t think he would’ve ever had a ring on his finger.

He watched silently as you waited for Oscar to grab your bags. Your eyes flickering around the property, taking in the well kept gardens and security cameras mounted every few yards. A fortress.

His eyes took in the dress you wore, expensive silk draped over skin. Flowing like liquid in the subtle summer breeze. He took note of how your hand kept flexing, the one with a ring. His ring.

The one he had slid on your finger a week ago as he whispered, “I do.” Your own voice low as you muttered the vow, eyes not meeting his.

He could barely remember what the kiss had been like. It was quick, soft. Obligatory. Both of you seemed relieved it was over with, arms linked with one another as you left the cathedral. White flower petals falling into hair as they were tossed into the sky.

Lando set his tumbler down and backed away from the window, trying to take a calming breath before walking downstairs. He needed to make this livable. An ecosystem. Staying out of each other's way, respecting boundaries. Telling where and what was off bounds. If you needed help, ask Oscar. If you wanted someone to talk to, also ask Oscar. Leave him be, because he was busy.

You seemed reasonable enough in the few minutes of shared company. You knew this was a business transaction. It wasn’t something to get hopes up on. Lando knew you were smart enough not to be a burden so hopefully it would feel like nothing had changed. Just an extra person in the household. Another echoing voice.

He could hear the sharp click of your heels as you entered the front foyer, the soft sound of your voice as you spoke in hushed tones. Your whole presence seemed cautious. Like you were treading in a minefield.

As he stepped down the stairs and into the light, your eyes met. The air shifting. Tense. Dangerous. Your painted lips pressed into a line as you waited for instruction. Ever obedient. Compliance being woven into you as a child.

He had met your father on more than one occasion and he knew he wasn’t a kind man.

But the problems of your past were yours.

Lando sighed lightly through his nose, head tilting and hands in pockets as he let himself look at you for another moment before dismissing Oscar.

The foyer was still. The only thing he could hear was the faint hum of electricity and birds outside. Watching you as you watched him.

“Nice drive?” He asked, not quite sure on the formalities of the situation.

You laughed slightly, the sound coming out in a short exhale as you looked away from him. “It was fine.”

He hummed, not seeing a point in furthering the conversation and he gestured for you to follow him.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The summer had gone by in a repetition of droning days and lonely dinners. The only thing keeping you company were the few books you packed, although you had already read through them all. An endless cycle of talking to the walls and sitting near your window, feeling like a modern day Rapunzel.

It’s not necessarily like you weren’t allowed to go anywhere, but it still felt off limits. Frowned upon. A burden if you were seen walking the halls.

His family didn’t like you very much. Which you both understood yet couldn’t come to terms with. They had to have known this wasn’t any more of your choice than it was his. And why shovel the blame onto someone’s child? It wasn’t your fault your father was corrupted and played a better hand.

Pressing your forehead against the cool glass, you watched as the world went by. The silent hum of air conditioning was the only thing to droll out your thoughts and lately it hadn’t been working. The room felt suffocating but there was no one to turn to. Even voicing your thoughts out loud to yourself seemed like some boundary was being crossed. Maybe even to yourself. That you were starting to get too comfortable.

Oscar seemed nice enough. Timid. Not sure how to approach you or if he even should. He brought your meals to your door like clock work. Part of you felt bad but the thought of eating in the dining room seemed like suicide. You had tried the first night, assuming that was just part of the routine. To have dinner with your…husband.

But Lando was nowhere to be found, leaving you at a large oak table alone and shoveling food around. Appetite non-existent. Oscar had told you he usually took dinner in his office. That most of the other members of the household ate out.

His words hit you dully as you stared at the polished wood, not quite believing this was going to be the rest of your life. Then again, you weren’t sure what you wanted. Did you want Lando to make an effort? Did you even want to be around him? You didn’t know much, just that he was a bad man. But aren’t they all? Apparently that’s all the world thought you were fit for. Violent men with money in their eyes.

No, you didn’t want to know him.

But god, loneliness caught up to everyone.

The hours ticked by and you sat there, tracing lines into the skin of your thighs with your nail. Over and over again till skin prickled and red lines appeared. The itch and sting foreign, numb. As if you’d shot your heart with novacaine. Your eyes unblinking as you did the action, pure muscle memory. You didn’t have to think. You didn’t want to.

At least you never wanted to think about yourself. Your situation. The listless marriage you now found yourself trapped in.

But your mind would wander. What did he get up to? What did he even do? Was it really any different from the current political affairs the nation got up to? Would he one day change his mind and want more?

The thought made you shiver, eyes trailing to your locked door. He’d never tried to come in. Hell, he’d never even been to your room. In the weeks you’d been there you had probably only seen him a handful of times. Walking down the hall and his eyes would catch yours for a moment but nothing else. Looking through you like a ghost. Cold. Indifferent. Sometimes you’d hear him in the house. Talking to Oscar or on the phone. Always business. Always something you didn’t understand.

He couldn’t seem bothered at the thought of you being around. Didn’t seem interested. And that weird, fucked up little voice in the back of your mind whispered that Lando was keeping himself entertained just fine. That he found comfort in other women. Having affairs. You barely felt married. There weren't technically any commitments beyond regurgitated vows. So why did the thought still make your stomach churn?

Perhaps it was the feeling of being unwanted. A constant companion of doubt. Your family didn’t want you, pawned you off. Your husband didn’t want you. You would never get to experience love. You’d go through life longing for creature comforts—

You pressed your forehead harder into the glass. Wanting the thoughts to stop. You pushed so hard you hoped it’d break and you’d go hurtling towards the ground.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Six o’clock sharp.

Dinner.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You felt like you were going insane. The walls bending inward. The wallpaper swirling. The ceiling breathing.

Crazy.

Wandering the halls was reckless but you started to care less and less if Lando saw you. For the first time in months you wanted him to see you. Be reminded that you were there. Proof you were alive. You were here. Even when it never felt like it. You felt like a phantom who haunted the house, mostly only coming out at night when the rest of the world slept. Chasing the creaks of wood and following the patterns in the rug. Chasing something. Feeling wild. Deranged like a white rabbit who was late for tea.

His mother yelled at you. For something, you weren’t sure what. It seemed like no matter what you did you were wrong. Skin not fitting right over bones. Disassociating and staring at her. That only made her more mad and she slapped you. Not for the first time. Hard across the face. You hadn’t noticed till you heard the echo of it around the kitchen. Didn’t realise till some of the staff gasped, hands flying over mouths. Glowing wide eyes staring at you in shock.

You blinked again, subtle warmth creeping into your cheek. Hand slowly going up to hold your face. What had you done wrong? Why were you always wrong?

His mother scoffed. “You’re no good. You’re not even all the way there are you?” With a look of disgust she turned away, disappearing down the hall.

One of the cooks slowly approached you, as if you were some wounded animal. Holding out a pack of ice. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what?” Your voice sounded distant. Distorted. Like it was coming from somewhere else. Taking the ice, you left. Letting it sit in your hand instead, the bitter coldness of it sending a dull shock up your arm.

You felt like crying. At least you thought about it. But nothing would fall out. Your eyes felt dry and heavy. Staring at nothingness as you walked with your heartbeat thudding in your ears.

This was your life. This was going to be your forever. Sucked into yet another man's orbit who didn’t give a shit about you. Because fuck what you want, right?

You turned into what you thought was your bedroom. You weren’t quite sure how you got there. It had been odd lately. Like moments of time blacked out. Arriving one place and not knowing how you got there. Tuning out to your depressing reality.

You were going to die alone. It wasn’t even your fault. Or maybe it was. Maybe you should’ve tried harder. Fought your father and left as soon as you had turned of age. Why didn’t you try harder to fight back? Did some twisted part of you want this? The lack of effort. Things being handed to you. Maybe you thought you deserved it. After all, you'd been living off your fathers dirty money guilt free. Perhaps this was just your karma.

Longing for a life you’d never have.

You sucked in a sharp breath, tears finally beginning to prick at your eyes. The droplets stung so bad your vision went blurry.

You barely felt it as your knees hit the hard wooden floors. Didn’t register the scratching sound of your nails dragging against the planks, blindly trying to crawl your way out of the hell you were living. Feeling pathetic and ungrateful because you knew it could be worse. It could always be worse.

A sob left your throat, bubbling up and out like acid.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The door flew open to his office and he was about to yell at whoever had the audacity when he turned, paused. The look on Oscar’s face wasn’t one commonly seen.

“What?”

“There’s a problem.”

Lando sighed, tapping his pen on his desk. “Care to elaborate?”

“It’s your mother and your wife.”

Lando reared back slightly at the word. It wasn’t thrown around often. Hell, he hardly saw you. And when he did, when he’d catch you wandering around well past three in the morning something was just…off. He didn't know how to approach you. Or if he even should. You’d seemed equally disinterested by his company. Staring at him sometimes like he was an apparition that wasn’t meant to be there.

He wouldn’t blame you if you hated his guts. Lando knew most women would prefer a love filled marriage compared to whatever the hell they had.

“What about them?” He asked, eyes flicking down to his papers again. Not seeing why—

“The staff said there was an altercation in the kitchen.”

Pausing, his eyes flicked up. Brow raising.

Oscar sighed, “your wife is in your room.”

That got him up. What the hell were you doing in there? And why? It wasn’t like he kept important documents in there, he knew better than that but he still didn’t trust you much. You were your fathers daughter. Maybe this was all some ploy to get into his personal things, find weaknesses, cracks.

His feet moved briskly down the hall, his polished shoes clicking dully on the ornate rugs and painted eyes followed him as he went. Lando didn’t pause as he saw his door, didn’t pause as he turned the handle.

“What do—“

Lando halted to a stop as his eyes found you. Feeling as if the earth had been yanked out from beneath him when he heard you try to smother the sound of your crying with a hand. Curled up in the space between his bed and the nightstand. Looking so small as you trembled.

Your eyes didn’t meet his. He wasn’t even sure if you heard him come in. Your breathing was too fast, too ragged. Short bursts of oxygen, your lungs not being able to keep up.

He shut the door softly behind him and quietly made his way over to you, lowering himself to his knees. Debating if he should touch you or not. You hadn’t touched in months. Not since the wedding.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and you flinched. Head shooting up and staring at him. He’d never seen you look so frightened and you tried to push yourself back harder into the wall. Shaking your head as if he’d caught you doing something wrong.

He immediately caught the red outline of a hand on your cheek. His jaw clenched. An odd, unbearably awful sensation churned in his stomach at the thought of someone hurting you. Knowing it was his mother only made the fire burn hotter. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like you were close. But the rage was itching up his spine like a spider.

“You’re okay,” he said again. His voice was rough, but a whisper. He reached out to you, slowly. Hands gently taking hold of you as he pulled your shaking frame into his, feeling the way your lungs struggled to catch up. Your muscles coiled in tension as he touched you. He hated it.

“You’re alright, darling.” He soothed your hair back, feeling your nails bite into his skin as you twisted the fabric of his shirt. Trying to ground yourself. Trying to make sense of it all. Of why he was here.

He knew it had to be confusing. That his sudden reassurance was off putting and regret was starting to inch its way up his throat. The spindly legs tickling and desperate. He should’ve handled this whole thing better. It was selfish. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. Holding your head beneath his chin as you tried to calm down. “I’m here, if you need me to be.”

You didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to do. Where to go from there. This was new territory for him. Second guessing wasn’t usually in Lando’s playbook but you were something new entirely.

He began to lean away but your grip tightened on his shirt, your head pressing further into the crook of his neck.

Sighing, he maneuvered himself into a sitting position, holding you in his lap as he leaned against his bed. Giving you time. Gently running circles into the nape of your neck. His grandmother always did that for him, it always seemed to help calm him down. Lando waited patiently, taking in the faint scent of your shampoo. Smiling to himself a bit despite everything because it was the same one he used.

Slowly your harsh breathing began to subside but your body still trembled from the aftershocks.

His fingers still ran lightly over your skin, his voice a low hum and he could feel the vibration of his own rib cage with your weight against him. “I’ve had panic attacks too, you know?”

You didn’t do anything for a moment, and then, like the first break of daylight, you slightly shifted your head and your voice was a whisper. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Something had shifted. Maybe others wouldn’t have noticed, but you did. That next morning there was a knock on your bedroom door. Eight o’clock sharp. You hadn’t slept much, your eyes still raw and body restless from the previous evening. The feeling of his light, delicate touch on you was on replay in the back of your mind. You hadn’t been held in what felt like years.

You hadn’t expected such kindness from him.

Padding over to the door, you rubbed at your eyes, trying to look alive before opening it. “Morning, Oscar–” you blinked at the form of Lando standing in the hall. Wearing a casual linen shirt and dress pants, jacket draped over one arm and he looked at you expectantly.

“Ready?” He asked.

You felt dumb as you continued to stare at him. Not expecting to see him so soon. Not thinking he’d even want to see you after yesterday’s mess. “What?”

He sighed lightly through his nose. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

“Why?”

There was a slight crease forming between his brows. “Do you not want to?”

You blinked again before reality finally caught up to you. “No, no. That’s fine. Just… let me get dressed.” You eyed him as you shut the door. He was acting weird.

It was nice.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

“What on earth are you doing?” His mother shouted over the sound of a power drill. Standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.

Lando looked at her for only a moment. Still cross with her after the kitchen incident a couple of weeks ago. He had yelled at her after he managed to get you into bed. Yelled at his whole family. The staff, for not telling him.

“She is the lady of the household and my wife. You do not touch her, you do not say a fucking word to her unless it’s praise.” He looked directly at his mother. “Understood?”

“I’m building a reading nook.” He finally said, standing back to look at his progress so far. He took you to the fabric store yesterday but you were beyond indecisive and he wasn’t sure the new couch went with the interior of his office.

He had been trying to go out more, just small places. When he found out you hadn’t left the house since you arrived he was confused and furious with Oscar. His friend and right hand had merely raised his hands in surrender, muttering how you had never wanted to go anywhere.

“Whatever for? Since when do you read for pleasure?” His mother asked, mostly teasing. Trying to weave her way back into his good graces. He doubted that would ever happen. He was on the verge of throwing her out but you managed to talk him out of it.

“It’s not for me.” Lando left it at that. Watching how his mother’s shoulders fell at the realisation and she turned away.

He smiled slightly to himself as he set up the couch, pushing it under the window so you could get good light and a nice view of the gardens. Plus, he could watch you more easily from his desk when he worked.

You looked pretty when you were reading.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

For the first time in months you were bored, and not in a bad way. Lando made sure there was always something for you to do when he wasn’t around. Part of you felt bad, following him around like a kicked puppy. But any time you’d start to back off, give him some space, it was like his hand blindly found yours, not even looking up from his work, tugging you back.

Muttering a quiet, “stay.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies that began fluttering in your stomach, chasing after whatever this was. You didn’t know why you felt stubborn over it. He was your husband after all, butterflies are supposed to be a good thing.

You took up cooking as a hobby, mostly different kinds of fresh pasta. Trying to keep your hands steady as Lando would walk behind you, fingers lightly dragging along the small over your back. Leaning over your shoulder, lips nearly brushing your neck as he quietly spoke, “that looks lovely.”

He always spoke so softly to you. His touch always delicate.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Lando fixed his cuff links as he stood in the foyer, making sure his suit was wrinkle free in the large mirror. There was a big Christmas gala that night in London. A whole cluster of politicians, businessmen, philanthropists, etc. He didn’t have much of a role to play besides being seen, given his bookies did most of the under the table work.

When he’d asked you to go with him, you hesitated. He knew seeing your father was something you’d like to avoid. Over time you slowly opened up to him about how strained the relationship was.

He had lifted a hand to your cheek, gently brushing his knuckles along your cheekbones, watching in satisfaction as your pupils expanded at his touch. “I won't let him near you,” he whispered. Watching as you debated before eventually nodding, leaning slightly into his touch.

When he heard the sound of heels clicking sharply against marble flooring his eyes flicked up, watching you approach in the mirror. Looking like heaven in high heels. Your black dress fit you perfectly, the white fur shawl was draped lazily over your shoulders.

Lando felt his mouth go dry as he turned, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as you approached. The sweet smell of your perfume swirling around him, making him feel hazy.

God, if you knew what you did to him.

It seemed like every night now that he dreamt of kissing you, doing a whole list of unruly things. Despite the ring on his hand and yours it still felt off limits. Not feeling sure of what you actually wanted.

“Ready?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips.

He blinked at you, still in a daze. “What?”

You bit your lip, holding back a laugh and he felt his stomach pool.

“The gala. Yes, right.” He cleared his throat, not thinking twice as he took your hand. “Let’s go.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You felt all the eyes on you as he took you around the dance floor. The whispers. Lando Norris’ wife who he liked to keep hidden away. Apparently most people hadn’t even known he was married. They thought you were just a new date till they saw the blinding diamond on your finger and his matching gold one.

You felt stiff. Too perceived.

But he lightly took hold of your chin between his fingers, making you look at him.

“It’s just you and me, love.”

Love. You felt equally reassured and nauseous.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Lando was using every excuse he could to touch you. Hand splaying on the small of your back where your dress dipped low. Fingers lightly brushing the back of your neck as he talked to the other guests. Hand on your thigh beneath the table. When he’d first done it you jumped slightly and his heart skipped a beat when you looked at him, eyes low, before turning away again and taking a sip of your wine.

He couldn’t help it as his lips pulled back slightly when he began to rub circles with his thumb, feeling the muscles of your leg tighten. But you leaned toward him, an invitation. He felt more drunk off of you than any wine he had been drinking.

He’d only see glimpses of your father. Lingering to the side of the ballroom walls. Whispering in corners with other greedy men. His eyes always on you, though.

Lando didn’t like it. Then again he never liked anything enough for that to be a fair test. But he knew never to ignore his intuition, so he took your hand in his and tugged you along until you were outside, the cold December air twirling around them.

You shivered as you waited for the valet to pull his McLaren around, blushing a bit when he draped his jacket over your shoulders. Or maybe it was just the wind, he wasn’t sure. But he’d liked to think he made you flustered.

The engine purred as he drove away, feeling your eyes on him as city lights flicked back.

“Why’d we leave early?” You finally asked.

His grip adjusted on the steering heel, looking in the rearview mirror, always vigilant. He hadn’t realised till now that going public made you a target. Made him vulnerable.

“Just wanted to,” is all he offered. Not wanting to scare you. He knew you already had a difficult time adjusting to his world. Then again he shouldn’t cut you any credit. Growing up with your father couldn’t have been any easier.

You hummed, not believing him. Your eyes finally pulled away to stare out the window. Letting him relax. It was strange, having somebody for the first time see him. The thought was equally relieving and terrifying.

When they pulled up to the house the car fell quiet, a heavy silence falling over like a blanket. He wanted to say more to you, but what? This was all new territory and the thought of messing up this bridge he’d built—

“Lando.”

He turned, looking at you as moonlight painted your skin through the window.

You reached forward, hand taking his, “I know you’ll keep me safe.” Another pause and you played with his wedding ring. “I trust you.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

A loud thud woke you up, your heart beating erratically as your door handle began to move. Thankful that you had locked it but fear was still crawling up your spine. You were just about to reach for your phone to call someone for help when a ragged voice poured out from the other side, weakly saying your name. The sound of a body slumping to the floor.

Lando.

You quickly tore off the sheets, stumbling a bit in the dark and you yanked your door open. A hand flying up to your mouth as you took in the state of him. Bruised and slick with blood, one arm wrapped around his rib cage, his breath rattling.

His eyes cracked open, gleaming in the low lamp light of the hall. His lips pulling back in a bloodied grin.

“Hello, darling.”

“Oh my god,” you did your best to get him up, almost falling under his weight as you maneuvered him to your bathroom. “What happened?”

Your heart lurched as Lando coughed, turning his head to spit out some blood into the bin and he sat himself up on the sink. Wincing as he did so. Not answering you.

“Lando,” you said quietly, afraid that even loud noises would hurt him and you gently took hold of his face in your hands. Not caring blood and dirt would get on them. Gently running your thumbs along his cheek bones.

He seemed to melt into you, letting his head fall forward and rest against yours as you brushed the damp curls back. Seeing him like this was a new kind of pain you never wanted to experience again.

“Who did this to you?” Although your voice was gentle, there was a layer of conviction under it that even surprised you.

He sighed, a wheeze coming up from the back of his throat and his hands came up to hold onto your wrists. You didn’t miss his cracked and bleeding knuckles.

“I have a duty of care,” he muttered.

Your father. You felt like throwing up.

Gently pulling his head forward, you held him to you. Letting his heartbeat bring some life back into you. He was okay. He was here. He came back to you. Everything would be fine.

Slowly, Lando’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as tight as he could.

“I’m going to kill him,” you mumbled into his hair and he laughed, not caring that it hurt.

He leaned his head back slightly, eyes flicking between your own and your lips. His hand that had snaked up to the back of your neck pulling you in slightly. Hesitant. Then all at once.

Mouths colliding, a kiss that felt like a tuning fork struck against a star.

His fingers twined in your hair and you tried to be gentle with him. As much as you could. But the feeling of finally was making you feel weightless. Reckless. Desperate as he held you tighter.

You felt high as he whispered the words my wife between kisses.

“So much for a marriage of convenience,” you managed after you pulled away. You didn’t want to, but he needed your help.

He smiled again, those dimples you loved so much deepening in his cheeks. “Nah,” he said lightly. “I think this will be a marriage of inconvenience.”

And he kissed you again.

taglist: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @c8lap1nto @ashbone

[multiversediaries]

MORE THAN FRIENDS

⤷ FRANK CASTLE X READER

Summary: After overhearing a conversation between Matt and Karen, you find comfort in the arms of the big, bad Punisher.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, small angst, soft, and i mean, VERY soft frank

Part count: 1/?

A/N: i loved, loved, LOVED! writing this!!!!! i hope u guys like it as much as i do ^-^ apologies for any mistakes! english is not my first language!

“Why aren’t you listening to me?” You heard Matt’s voice from outside of their office. You had just came back into the office, after looking more into a few cases you were all working on. You were eager to share the information you acquired to both your boyfriend, Matt, and Foggy.

“You are in a relationship, Matthew. This is insane.” Karen soon spoke up. You raised your ears in curiosity. Were they talking about you? You leaned into the door, trying to listen into their conversation.

You have been in a loving relationship with Matt for about two years now. You met him while working at his law firm, and ultimately fell for him. Who wouldn’t? Matt is a dream come true. It didn’t make you uncomfortable to know that his ex girlfriend, Karen, also worked along side Matt, since you knew he loved you. He reminded you every single day of how much he loved and appreciated you. He never gave you a reason to doubt him.

“Y/N? God, Karen. Can’t you see? She means nothing— not next to you.” Matt said, your heart sinking at his words. No, this isn’t the Matt you knew. The Matt you knew and fell in love with would never speak of you like this. No.. he loved you. He told you every day.

He loved you… right?

“You don’t mean that, Matt.” Karen replied softly. You could sense pity in her voice for you.

“Y/N… she’s lovely. She really is— she’s so good to me, but she’s not you. She will never be you.”

You heard Karen reply, but you weren’t paying attention anymore. You bit your bottom lip, hiding your silent cries, and shuttering breaths. You started to walk away from the office, not daring to even look back. You were grateful it was usually noisy around the office during that time, so Matt wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

You stood in the middle of the sidewalk, finally allowing yourself to hurt. Tears streamed down your face, painful sobs leaving your throat. The stares of people didn’t matter to you. How could he? How could you have been so naive? It was all too good to be true, and you knew this. You knew it was, yet you brushed it off. Just thinking this was the universe finally letting you be happy, for once. How naive.

You walked around the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. not having a place to go. You shared the apartment with Matt. You couldn’t go to Karen, or Foggy. Gosh, where were you going to sleep for tonight? Those were the only people you truly trusted and knew. You didn’t have any family left in Hell’s Kitchen. No one.

As you walked around town, flashbacks kept replaying in your head. Walking past that italian restaurant Matt loved so much, the small bar Matt liked playing pool in, the park Matt loved taking walks with you at, everything reminded you of him. You closed your eyes in defeat, as you felt small rain drops fall on your skin.

Just what you needed.

But even then, it was comforting. You always liked how the city looked during rainy nights. It brought you peace and now, consolation. You walked around the streets you loved so much, an emotionless expression in your face. You felt empty. You felt so pathetic, and like you had wasted two years of your life. Two years of nothing but what you thought was happiness and love. But it was just a fantasy. A delusion. Fiction. It just wasn’t real, nothing was real. You weren’t Karen. You didn’t have as much history with Matt as Karen did. You just weren’t her.

While you continued to walk, your tears now hidden in the rain, giving you the freedom to let go, to cry as much as you pleased, you heard a name you hadn’t heard in a while.

The Punisher.

Frank Castle. The man who once saved your life. The man who seemed to care so deeply about you. A long lost friend. You lost communication with him a few months ago. It was nothing new, Frank traveled a lot, he never truly stayed at one place for too long. You didn’t know he was back, as he hadn’t told you. He’d always find a way to contact you, to let you know he was alive and well. Most of the times, he simply got you flowers. He knew how much you liked them. So he wanted to be associated with something you liked so much.

You soon found yourself at his front door. Terrified he wouldn’t be home. After composing yourself, or at least trying to, you knocked twice on his door. You bit your lip, looking down anxiously.

Please be home, Frank. Please.

After a few minutes of silence, that sense of hope inside of you started to die down. He wasn’t home. Of course he wasn’t home. You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head. Again, how fucking naive. You wiped your teary, swollen eyes, and turned around on your heels, starting to walk away from his door. You began thinking of where you could spend the night. If anything, you could wait under they all leave the office, and you could sleep there.

“Y/N?” You heard a deep, raspy voice call out behind you, interrupting your thoughts. You could have sworn your heart stopped. You turned around slowly, finding Frank.

“You’re home…” You managed to whisper, earning a cautious nod from Frank.

“Everything okay, doll? What’s goin’ on?” Frank asked, his eyes scanning you, looking for any injuries on you. His expression softening at the sight of a broken you.

You opened your mouth to speak, yet nothing came out. You faked a smile, wiping your eyes once again. Frank’s heart tightened. He slowly began making his way to you. Your smile soon turned into a frown, small sobs leaving your lips. You couldn’t stop yourself from breaking down in front of him. Loud, and sore wails filling the hall you both were standing on.

Frank didn’t say a word either, he only embraced you into a tight hug. His strong arms stroking your back lovingly, as he held you together, knowing that if he let go, you’d fall apart right in front of him. Once he noticed your cries had calmed down, he finally spoke up.

“Let’s change you out of these wet clothes.” He spoke lightly, guiding you into his apartment. He closed the door behind him, leading you into the bathroom. He brought some of his clothes for you, and a towel.

“Take a warm bath, and then we’ll talk if you want to, alright?” Frank said, before offering you a small, pitiful grin, and closing the door. You took off the damped clothes and jumped into the shower, instantly relaxing as soon as the hot water touched your cold skin.

Frank could hear your whimpers and cries from his living room, where he impatiently waited for you. He had never seen you like this. His heart felt heavy while looking into your blood red, swollen eyes, your quivering lips and broken expression. He sighed harshly, remembering how cold you felt when he held you into his arms, how much you were shaking. He quickly stood up, gathering warm blankets for you. He also prepared warm chocolate for you, your favorite kind, in hopes of lifting your spirits, even if it’s just a little.

He must have gotten too caught up in trying to make you feel comfortable, that he didn’t notice you. You stood by the counter of his kitchen, wearing one of his t-shirts and long pants, which were most definitely a little big on you. He smiled just a bit, once he locked eyes with you. You returned the kind smile, watching him as he poured the hot chocolate into a cup for you.

Soon, your eyes drifted to a flower arrangement, carefully sitting by the end of the counter you were leaning on. You sighed quietly, in relief.

“Those are yours, sweetheart. Was gonna have them delivered to you tomorrow, or somethin’.” Frank said, handing the cup to you. You smiled, genuinely this time. Of course he was going to. How dare you doubt him? He cares about you. Truthfully. You brought the cup to your lips, softly blowing it, before drinking from it.

“See, I just didn’t know where to send ‘em to.” Frank continued, looking at the flowers he got for you. Tulips. “Didn’t know you moved in with Matt.” He said. You sighed at the mention of his name, a frown appearing once again.

“Yeah, well. Definitely don’t send them there.” You replied, so soft it was almost a whisper. Frank nodded, not wanting to push you. He didn’t want to pressure you into telling him anything.

“Are you alright, doll? Talk to me.” Frank said, as softly and tenderly as possible. You sighed shakily, recalling what you heard. Frank bit the insides of his mouth. “Let’s go sit, okay?” He offered, a hand lightly on your waist, leading you to his living room. Frank sat across from you, giving you all the space you needed. You looked down at the cup in your hands, trying to find the right words.

“It’s Matt, he—”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No! Of course not— I mean, yeah? Kind of?” You replied, placing the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, before your hands ran to caress your temples in frustration.

“I’m sorry.” Frank said after taking a deep breath. “Didn’t meant to interrupt ya.” He finished, his eyes never leaving yours. Your heart almost melted. Frank has always been this kind, this attentive.

“It’s fine, Frank. It’s just—” You continued, running a hand through your damped hair, trying to find the best way to explain your situation. “I don’t even know how to explain it, he just— he just doesn’t love me.”

“What?” Frank asked, truly baffled at your words. Because how can anybody not adore you?

“I heard him speaking to Karen. And he told her I was nothing compared to her, and that he only wanted her.” You continued, your voice breaking. “He doesn’t love me, Frank. Simply because I’m not her.” You finished, your head dropped in embarrassment and hurt. You held back your wails, yet there was not point in stopping the tears that now ran down your face. You heard Frank sigh.

After a few minutes of nothing but your silent cries, Frank had now moved to sit next to you, an arm wrapped around you, as you cried into his chest. His fingers traced circles on your skin, attempting to comfort you as much as he possibly could. A few more minutes passed, yet Frank hadn’t said a word.

“Why haven’t you said anything?” You finally spoke up, your voice sore and tired from all the crying. Frank shrugged his shoulders, looking down at you.

“Just can’t understand how anyone would want anybody else but you.” Frank said, his eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. He was dumbfounded. “You’re it for me, sweetheart.” Frank continued, his face showing utter bewilderment.

“Didn’t know Red could be so goddamn stupid.” Frank said, looking down to stare into your eyes. Your eyes glassy and overflowing with tears. He sighed, his rough fingers wiping away the small teardrops on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry I can’t comfort ‘ya any better, I’m just bamboozled.” Frank confessed, making a small giggle leave your mouth. He offered you a small grin.

“Don’t you dare doubt yourself ‘cause of him. You know your worth and how fucking amazing you are— he’s missing out on you, pretty girl.” Frank continued, his rough hand felt warm and even soft against your skin. You bit your lip, killer butterflies filling your stomach while you heard Frank speak so softly and lovingly to you.

“I just don’t understand— if it were me, I would’ve put a ring on your finger ages ago. Fuck, I would’ve made you a mom by now.” Frank rambled on, your eyes softly widening at his sudden confession. Frank seemed to realized what he said, since he quickly looked into your eyes in panic.

“I mean— I would’ve never exchanged you for anyone or anything. I’m telling ‘ya, you’re it for me.” Frank finished, his hand leaving your cheek. You frowned at the loss of his warmth.

“You should be exhausted, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk more in the morning.” Frank said softly, before planting a tender kiss to your forehead. You nodded, mostly speechless by what just happened. You made your way to then vacant room Frank had offered you, looking back once in a while, locking eyes with Frank. You smiled timidly, before walking into the room, and closing the door behind you.

“‘I would’ve made you a mom.’ ‘The fuck were you thinking?” Frank cursed under his breath, cleaning up his living room. His eyes going going over to the room you were sleeping at, wondering if you needed anything, and most importantly, if you were okay.

Inside, a smile had formed in your lips, remembering the words Frank had said to you. You couldn’t help the obvious attraction and love you felt towards him, from the very first day you met him. Matt hated Frank, probably because of how fondly you spoke of him and how excited you used to get when a bucket of flowers would get delivered to you. You used to reassure Matt to not worry about Frank, that you two were just friends.

But were you?

[undercover-stories]

It is so tragic to me that some people still don't understand this. There's a lot of emphasis on the fact that its a story about unreliable narrators but even more than that it's about when that narration is deliberately malicious. It really rides on the idea that on some things there is no middle road. You either do the right thing or you don't and unfortunately if you are not in the majority then you do not get to write your own history even if you did the right thing.

Which on that tangent is why I am really obsessed with the idea of Lan Zhan actually writing a history book from Wei Yings perspective. Not even a book that's deliberately pro-wei Ying because that's not the point Lan zhan is trying to make. That has never been the point Lan Zhan is trying to make. His point has always been, here are the facts, let your conscience decide. He's not there to argue for Wei Ying. He's there to make sure he's heard. Like him silencing Su She so Wei Ying could speak. It's why when Wei Ying dies he makes peace with that by living his life the way he knows Wei Ying would have wanted him to. Still Lan Zhan. Still Hanguang Jun. Still just a man trying to do the right thing but this time with no hesitation or doubts.

Untamed Fall Fest 2020  Day 31 - Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian ! Don’t you understand ?

[prael]

Conciliation

ILLIT Moka x Yunah // part 2 to Punishment

words: 6,035 Masterlist

Two weeks have gone by. Two weeks since the incident in their dorm room. For Yunah, it's as though that night never happened. It was just some afterthought that had been shoved down in the deep corners of her memory, as though she would sooner forget and have Moka pretend it was nothing at all.

Moka thinks of nothing else.

She thinks about it in her classes, daydreaming when she should be practising. Rehearsals have become a stop-start procedure, with everyone turning to Moka with the same question: are you okay? She feels so pathetic. Embarrassed at herself, but still thinking, wondering, wishing, that maybe tonight might be that night; that Yunah might snap at some point and give her just a single touch.

She's thought about doing it again, just the same way, touching herself while Yunah is around. Even the mere idea has Moka wet with shame. It would work, surely, it has to work. Then Moka talks herself out of it. Doing it again, trying to instigate a reaction, she may as well just confess, beg, and plead with Yunah. Admit that she likes her. Tell her just how crazy it makes Moka when she walks around the room in only a t-shirt and panties. When she shakes her hair loose out of a ponytail, her brunette hair cascades in the moonlight, looking so soft and thick, and Moka can't get over her.

They're on their way out of the country, for another big show. Another sleepless night spent travelling. Another opportunity for Yunah to glare at Moka when she's obviously not focused or too busy stumbling through her moves. Another opportunity for her to sit there, only her and her dirty, little thoughts.

There's a slight turbulence, enough to make the sleeping Yunah move in her seat, her head rolling to the side. She looks peaceful and beautiful. That same fringe she's so particular about always ends up in her eyes, so naturally, Moka wants to reach up and push it away, but she forces herself back, that's the last thing she wants; to wake her and look suspicious.

"Not sleeping?" A voice from the other side, makes Moka tear her eyes away from Yunah and find Minju. Minju gives a curious look at Yunah before returning her gaze to Moka.

"Can't sleep," Moka confesses with a sigh.

Minju doesn't reply at first, the look she is giving, makes Moka believe she is contemplating whether she should share or not. "Me neither. Keep thinking about tomorrow."

Moka hums a vague affirmative in response. She wants to appear agreeable and that she isn't preoccupied with the thoughts of someone else.

Minju gives her a wry smirk. "What about you? You keep spacing out."

Her question strikes a chord in Moka. For some reason, she can't deny it or lie about what's been going through her head, and even when she should probably deny it, Moka still finds herself talking about her. "Have you ever liked someone who hated your guts? Like so much it physically hurts," Moka can't help the questions slipping past her lips. It's pathetic really. She should know better, and she knows she's saying too much and too openly, but it's not her fault. She just can't handle it all, not for another minute.

"Are you saying there's a guy you like?" Minju asks, which at least offers Moka the reassurance that the others haven't realised what's going on; why else would she ask that? "You know we're not allowed to date anyone, Moka."

"I know, and I'm not going to date anyone, but I can still like someone, right?"

Minju laughs. "Yeah, you can do what you like," she replies while stealing another look at the older girl across from them, sleeping. "So why does he hate your guts then?"

"Well, I—"

Yunah sighs, breaking the conversation as the pair suddenly falls quiet. They freeze like deer caught in the headlights of a car as Yunah, shifts in her seat, adjusting her position before relaxing again. There is a relief between them, letting out a heavy breath at the realisation that their friend is still very much asleep.

"Lucky her," Minju finally says, shaking her head. "I can't wait for us all to be back in our hotel rooms and having some proper sleep." Minju sighs, turning back to Moka. "You were saying?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it, forget I said anything," Moka rambles. She finds herself silently cursing herself. If the truth of her desires slipped and spilt out, there's no telling what kind of trouble she would be in. But Minju looks at her in a strange sort of understanding, nodding and giving her a reassuring smile.

Moka returns the sentiment and lays her head on her friend's shoulder. Her heartbeat starts to slow down, and as time passes, sleep draws in, luring her into its clutches, and at last, her eyelids flutter shut.

-

It's 4 am and they're shambling into the hotel lobby, weary, eyes burning, muscles tired, with sore shoulders and legs.

"We've booked rooms for you all. We just went with the same arrangement as the dorm," the manager explains, sending Moka's heart crashing. She and Yunah. Of course. She nods weakly and trudges to the lift alongside her members.

Yunah opens the door, and Moka follows. They haven't spoken a word to each other. The moment the hotel door is closed, and Moka drops her bag on the floor, Yunah takes off her jacket, hanging it on a hook. Moka slips her shoes off, trying her hardest not to make eye contact.

"Moka?"

Fuck. Why couldn't she just walk past without saying anything? Moka's cheeks feel hot. Why now? She glances up, and the look she receives from Yunah doesn't give anything away.

"What's gotten into you? Are you sick?" She snaps, walking right up to her. A rough hand takes hold of her chin, forcing her face up and it shocks Moka so much that it knocks her off her axis for a moment.

There she is. Again. So close. It takes a moment, or three, to figure out what she even said. Moka goes to shake her head, but with her face being held so firmly in place, it's impossible. "No, I'm fine." She swallows. "Just a little nervous."

"Why are you lying to me?"

Her face is still gripped, she's forced to keep eye contact with her and she hates it. She hates that her skin prickles as Yunah's beautiful gaze pours down.

"Whatever," Yunah says incredulously, her hand holding Moka's jaw. Moka nods as best as she can and then she's released. She misses her touch the moment Yunah's hand is gone and she's left to drop her head. "We can't have you being distracted tomorrow. Just get it together."

The older girl retreats into the bathroom, closing the door and leaving a disgruntled Moka alone. She could scream, but instead, she swallows down her frustration.

Moka undresses and slips into her shorts and tank top. She flops onto the soft covers and waits. Curses and empty wishes run through her mind; her fist tightens into a frustrated ball and her eyebrows furrow. How is she supposed to do anything like this? How can she think about anything other than her?

Soon, Yunah returns, but all Moka gets from her is silence, nothing, absolutely nothing, and yet here she is, lying and waiting. Pathetic, it's downright fucking pathetic. She takes a deep breath and lets herself turn and stare at her back. "Yunah?"

"What?"

"Why did you make me feel good?"

"You talk about that like it meant something," Yunah responds, turning her attention away from her phone. Her beautiful hair fans out against the pillow.

"Did it?"

Yunah responds with her own question, "Did you want it to?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry." She turns her attention back to her phone, effectively dismissing her and the conversation altogether.

"Please—"

"Goodnight, Moka," Yunah bites. Her tone leaves no more room for discussion. No room for questioning.

Moka clamps her mouth shut, squeezing her eyes tightly closed. What more could she say? How many ways could she plead with her before it becomes demeaning? But the silence in her room makes the ache between her thighs feel unbearable and impossible to ignore.

It's nearly an hour later when Moka gives in, dipping her hands between her legs. She rubs against the front of her shorts and shudders as she teeters on the brink of losing her senses and giving in to her desires. But the bed shifts, the sheets move, and she stops.

Yunah rolls over and she looks at Moka, as though expecting her to do something, anything. The eye contact alone has Moka feeling so small and helpless.

"Do it," Yunah whispers.

"W-what?"

"I know you want to. These past weeks you've been so distracted. I know you're always thinking of it, of what happened, what I did. I see the way you look at me."

"I... I'm sorry."

Yunah rolls her eyes. "Just do it."

"But you hate it. It makes you uncomfortable, I can't—" Yunah cuts Moka off as she moves closer, she slips her fingers past the waistband of Moka's shorts, down to the wet warmth of her cunt. "Yunah," she whimpers. Moka bites her lip to hold in the noises, but it's impossible to stay silent as Yunah runs teasing touches over her lips, threatening to slip between them.

"You can't do it, can you? Not on your own, not since I've touched you." She says it so plainly that Moka can't help but agree. She knows the truth. "But you don't want to ask for my help because you know I'll just say no. So here I am, doing it for you." Yunah's finger slides between Moka's lips and runs up to her clit. It makes Moka gasp. "Think about why that is. Why would I want to help you?" she murmurs as her fingers circle the hard, little nub.

"I don't know." The words are barely audible.

"I think you do," Yunah says and then her fingers go away.

"No, don't stop."

"I know it's hard, Moka," Yunah whispers. Her fingers are back. They're running through the lips of Moka's cunt, sliding easily, making the skin slick and sensitive. Moka can hardly think as the fingers run up and down, stroking and teasing, edging closer to the opening. "But I need you to say it."

"Because," Moka chokes out. Her head is spinning, and she feels so dizzy. She can hardly form a single thought. All she knows is how good she feels, how desperate she is for those fingers. "You like making me feel good. Because you want it just as bad."

"Because I want it, Moka," Yunah whispers, pushing a single finger into Moka's tight entrance. It sinks in so deep and she moans. She's so fucking sensitive. The feeling of the finger as it enters and stretches her, the feeling as it curls inside, the way it moves slowly and deliberately, is enough to have her trembling. Yunah has to lean in and put her mouth by Moka's ear. "I can't get the fucking thought of you out of my head."

"Oh god."

The words have the desired effect and Yunah's hand moves faster, the thrusts come harder and Moka is completely helpless. Her body starts to arch, her back rises off the mattress and her chest is pulled upwards as if offering herself to the other girl. Her little chest rises, her nipples hardening under the material of her top. Yunah looks at her body and smiles. She pushes a second finger inside, her thumb begins to work her clit and Moka's hands are holding tight to the pillow behind her.

Moka doesn't care that she's moaning, or that she can't stop saying her roommate's name. All that she cares about is how her body is starting to clench, how her hips are bucking and how her legs have gone so rigid, and it's just the best feeling, the best thing that she's ever experienced in her life. Moka opens her eyes and finds Yunah staring. Her face is so close; Moka wants her closer.

She has the overwhelming desire to taste Yunah's lips, but not the strength to pull her down, so she settles for the fingers inside of her and the hand that keeps working her cunt until the orgasm comes.

Moka pulls the pillow tight around her head, muffling the sound that spills from her mouth. She feels her walls tightening around Yunah's digits, her entire body clenching and shaking, and her eyes rolling back. She's so close.

Yunah climbs over her, kneeling between her slender thighs and her fingers never leave. They're so deep. The pressure is too intense. She feels the walls inside of her start to tighten, the heat growing inside her. Moka's head turns and buries into the pillow she holds onto for dear life.

"Look at me, Moka," she coos, leaning into her. "I said look at me."

Yunah takes Moka's hand, prying it away from the pillow. Powerless to resist, Moka's arm is pushed above her head, and then the other. They're placed together, held under Yunah's grasp and Moka's head is free and forced to look at the beautiful woman on top of her, forced to see those deep brown eyes and that gorgeous hair, that pretty face with the full lips, the perfect lips, the ones Moka wishes were pressed against her. But that would be too much. Moka would never want anything more ever again. If she kisses her then it's game over, all she would ever need would be right here. Moka could never think about anyone or anything other than her, ever again.

Moka's stomach tightens, and her face contorts. She lies there helplessly as she is overcome, and the climax hits. She can't help it. She's moaning so loudly and she's clenching around Yunah's fingers. Her legs shake and her arms try to pull themselves away, to have something to cling to. But she can't move. All Moka can do is give into the pleasure. It washes over her, the sensation coursing through her body, making her toes curl.

She leaks messily onto Yunah's hand. The sounds of wetness fill her ears, the lewd, squelching noises as the fingers continue to work her pussy, fucking her through the high and prolonging the sensation until her mind blanks, her body convulses and her voice breaks into a pathetic whine. Moka's head thrashes back and forth, and she's crying, sobbing out loud.

She's left panting, chest heaving as she looks at Yunah who's smiling. That beautiful smile, the one she loves to see.

"You're so pretty when you cum, Moka." She says it most sweetly, and her eyes seem so sincere. Moka wants to kiss her more than ever, and she wants Yunah to feel good too, just like she did. But her body feels like jelly and she can barely move. So she can only lay there and try to catch her breath.

Yunah lowers, laying her head on Moka's chest, her ear pressing gently to her heart, as though listening to it. Her body still twitches and shakes and her legs remain spread with Yunah still nestled between them. Moka tries to calm herself, and she can feel Yunah's breathing slow and soften, her weight shifting on top of her.

"I'm sorry, Moka. For ignoring you, but I knew this would happen. I knew that once I gave in, I wouldn't be able to stop," she murmurs. Moka can only manage a hum in reply. She doesn't even understand what Yunah means, not really, she can barely understand her words. Yunah puts her hand on her waist and slips her own pyjama shorts over her hips and down her long legs. She kicks them off and they're left tangled up at the foot of the bed.

It's when Yunah raises her head from Moka's chest that Moka realises what's happening. Yunah slips her fingers into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down and off of her legs and throwing them aside. Moka feels so exposed. She can't hide the fact she's blushing, that she's so nervous, that this is what she's been waiting for, what she's wanted.

Yunah pulls her own shirt over her head and throws that off the bed too, and now Moka's staring. Tight and toned. Perky. It's like she can't help but let her eyes roam. She's the most perfect girl in the world. Moka's hands reach up to her, running along the curves of Yunah's body, the smoothness of her skin. Her thumbs brush over her nipples, feeling them harden and rise.

Yunah sighs, and Moka wants to make her do that again. She wants to hear all her pretty noises, just like Yunah said she loved hearing hers. So, she sits up and her hands go around Yunah, holding onto her, bringing her closer. She's so tall. Moka's face presses into her chest and she breathes against her, feeling the heat and inhaling the sweet scent of her.

Moka is so nervous. So anxious that she will do something wrong. She has to force herself to lift her head and part her lips, to lean forward and place her mouth over the stiff, little peak on Yunah's breast. She sucks, pulling it in, feeling the way it moves, the way Yunah lets out a breath and the hand that comes up to her hair. Fingers run through her black locks, nails drag along her scalp, and Moka moves her head to the other, repeating the motion, sucking the skin, flicking her tongue over it and pulling it with her lips.

Yunah moans and the grip tightens, she holds her head, and the other arm wraps around Moka. Reassurance in the form of a touch. It tells her she's doing well, that Yunah's liking it. That's all that matters. Moka wants her to like it, she wants to please her, and she wants to know how to make her feel good. She smiles against her smooth skin, placing kisses, licks, and bites all over her. Appreciation for this girl and her beautiful, wonderful body.

Then Moka finds herself lying on her back. Yunah climbs on top of her and Moka's heart thuds hard against her chest. This is everything she's wanted.

"Don't freak out," she whispers, her breath against Moka's face.

"Never."

Yunah shifts her weight and then Moka feels it, the wet heat of Yunah's cunt against hers, and the sensation of her body on hers. Moka looks down at their bodies and can see the point of their connection, where their skin meets. The sight of it alone makes her mouth go dry, her stomach flips, and it takes all her strength to keep herself together. And then Yunah rocks her hips, grinding against Moka, her slick pussy rubbing against Moka's. The sensation of her skin moving, her wetness, it makes Moka's eyes roll back.

"Yunah..." Moka gasps, her body arching, and Yunah pushes her down.

She does it again, and again, sliding against her, pushing her hips hard. Her breathing is growing faster, and heavier, and her moans are so quiet. Sparks ignite in her lower body. The pressure, the heat. It feels so good to have Yunah against her like that.

Yunah leans down and buries her face in the crook of her neck and she kisses and nibbles at her skin there, whispering against the spot. "Why does this feel so good?"

"I don't know," Moka gasps. She's losing her breath already. She's panting and she feels so hot and dizzy, but in the best possible way.

Yunah can't hold back, she can't hide the fact that Moka makes her lose her control. This cute, petite little thing below her; with her innocent, big brown eyes, and her adorable smile, that makes Yunah want to melt, she's her weakness. Moka, who she heard so many times, night after night. Moka, who she's ignored and tried to put from her mind, but can't. And now she has her. She has her little Moka beneath her, squirming and panting and whining, and Yunah's hips can't help but rut down into her.

Yunah can't get enough of it. Moka's pussy feels so soft and warm against her own. The slick mess that grows between them, it's addicting. The sounds are even worse. She wants to make more. She wants Moka to scream.

All the confusion Yunah once felt has vanished, and in its place, a sense of belonging, a feeling that she has to do this. That she's supposed to be in this bed with Moka and no one else. She never understood it. She was scared to admit it. But now there is nothing else she could ever ask for.

Yunah takes Moka's hand, interlocking fingers and squeezing. It's reassuring, and Moka's grip on her hand is strong, it tells Yunah she's feeling the same way.

"Moka."

"Yes," Moka answers.

Yunah looks down at the younger girl. Moka's face is contorted with pleasure, her lips are parted, and she's breathing so hard. She's completely lost to her sensations, and the sight makes Yunah's heart flutter, her skin burns and her body feels weak. "Moka," she whispers again. This time Moka's eyes open, looking straight at her. Their gazes lock and their fingers squeeze. "I like you."

"I like you too." Moka's smile is the most beautiful thing Yunah has ever seen, it triggers an instinct to fuck her harder. Moka's hand snaps to Yunah's hip and holds her tightly. She's moaning louder now. She can't hide it.

The bed creaks, the headboard hitting the wall. The sheets become tangled. They're sweaty and panting, and Moka's moans grow more desperate by the second.

Yunah can't stop herself any longer. Her stomach tenses tight, her body is on the verge of breaking and she can't take much more. "Moka," she calls her name, she's saying it so desperately. "Fuck, I'm going to cum." She can't hold on. Moka feels too good. Everything about this moment is perfect. It feels so right. Yunah can feel her own pussy twitch, she's getting closer to that edge. She can hear Moka whine, she's almost there. She wants Moka to finish. She needs it. "Cum with me."

"I want it, please Yunah. Please make me cum."

Yunah grinds harder. Moka's moans are so pretty. They fill her ears and they're the only sound in the room. They're music, they're the most perfect thing she's ever heard and the best song Moka has ever sung.

Yunah feels Moka's fingers tighten on her hip as she bucks her own up to meet Yunah's thrusts, and the sensation overwhelms them both. They cling to each other, both bodies trembling as the climax washes over them. Moka cries out, and it's loud. She doesn't even try to muffle herself as she squeezes Yunah's hand, and her hips jolt against hers. Yunah's face buries itself in Moka's neck, groaning into the skin, kissing, biting and sucking as the heat consumes her and her mind blanks, the pleasure takes over.

They lay there for what feels like forever, panting, their hearts thumping in their chests, the sound filling their ears.

It's then that Yunah looks up, pulling her head away. She looks down at Moka. Moka, her Moka, staring back up at her with her big eyes. The most gorgeous girl she's ever met. Her skin is so smooth and flawless. Her little nose, her cute lips, and the black, messy hair splayed on the pillow behind her, framing her face like a painting.

"Moka."

"Yunah."

Yunah leans down, pressing their foreheads together and Moka smiles, she can feel it against her face. Their breaths mingle and their hearts are so close, and Moka is holding onto her.

"I shouldn't have," Yunah pants, "shouldn't have lied to myself. Shouldn't have tried to ignore this."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not okay." She can feel Moka's lips brushing against hers. They're so close. It's just a little movement to close the distance between them, but Moka does it. She pushes her head up, and then Yunah's lips part. She kisses her and Yunah can't help but kiss her back, her tongue slipping into her mouth. Their tongues swirl and slide. Moka moans against her lips. The sound sends shivers down her spine. And Yunah wants her. She wants her so bad.

Moka is panting when Yunah breaks the kiss.

"It's okay now," Moka whispers, her breath ghosting over her. Yunah feels so weak. She's completely helpless.

"I think we need to talk about some stuff. But not now, not right now."

"No, not now," Moka replies with a giggle, leaning up and stealing another kiss.

Yunah gives her a lazy smile, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. She rolls onto her back, lying next to Moka, their legs still half-tangled. They lie in a comfortable silence. It feels so natural and normal as if it were always supposed to happen, that they were always meant to end up here. Yunah turns and looks at her, watching Moka stare at the ceiling.

"Is it weird that I want to do it again?" Yunah asks.

"Probably," Moka answers. She looks at her, grinning, "But so do I."

-

Thirty minutes later and Yunah finds herself mounted over Moka's face.

She's on her knees, straddling the girl, and the tip of her tongue is tracing patterns against her cunt. She's writing out love letters with her tongue. Signs her name on her clit and makes her legs shake.

Yunah braces, flat-palmed against the wall and throws her head back as she cries out Moka's name, grinding her pussy against the tongue. Sensitive and overused, yet still she wants this. She has to. It's not an option at this point. She's going to ride her until she can't possibly take anymore.

There's no coming back from this. There is only this, them, this room. The whole world has fallen away. It doesn't matter.

Moka is all that matters.

The warm tongue pushes past her lips and sinks into the soft heat, tasting her from the inside. She's moaning into Yunah's cunt, sending the most beautiful vibrations against her and Yunah is so fucking sensitive. Her thighs are shaking and she feels weak, she's struggling to hold herself up, but she can't bring herself to get off her.

"Your tongue, fuck," Yunah moans. The wet tongue laps at the mess, licking up her slick. Yunah can feel Moka swallowing, gulping her down, her little noises growing louder as she feasts. She's going to cum all over that pretty face. She's going to ruin Moka's perfect features and make them shine. Yunah is so close. She can't stop herself from thrusting forward. Her pussy is aching for more, throbbing as Moka eats her. She needs this, wants this.

"Moka... I can't stop, please don't stop," Yunah pants, pushing herself back onto her. Moka grips Yunah's thighs and digs her nails into them. "Fuck!" Yunah squeals. Her hips jerk forward. It's happening. It's too much. Moka's tongue won't stop, it swirls inside of her, and Yunah's legs are trembling.

Her thighs close tight around Moka's face, trapping it between her legs and her back arches, her mouth open, her voice hoarse and broken as she cums, and the walls inside of her clench tight.

And Moka is still eating her out. Yunah can feel the hot mess dripping from her pussy. She feels so sensitive. She can barely stand it, and her body twitches and spasms, and her heart pounds so hard. Her mind blanks. She's so tired, her body aching and exhausted, but her pussy still wants more.

"Yunah," Moka calls to her, patting her thigh and bringing her back from the brink of collapse, "Yunah, I can't breathe." Her little, muffled pleas have her snapping back to reality, realising that Moka's face has gone bright red. Yunah shifts, and she watches the way the girl gasps for air.

"Fuck, Moka." Yunah climbs from her and collapses beside her, chest heaving, sweat coating her skin. "Are you alright?"

Moka doesn't respond at first. She lays there, taking a breath and then she's turning, moving and climbing onto Yunah. "More than alright."

Yunah smiles at her, a sleepy smile that makes Moka blush, and she reaches up to push her black hair from her eyes. Her pretty little eyes are half-lidded and glazed, and her cheeks are rosy and flushed. Lips wet, with Yunah's arousal, it might be the hottest thing she's ever seen. "You're so pretty."

Moka giggles, a bashful laugh as she looks away. "Stop it."

"No," Yunah whispers with a smirk that she knows Moka likes. "I won't."

She flips Moka over and the girl lands with a yelp, a surprised and adorable little sound. She takes her liberties, to kiss and to bite, to suck her skin. Yunah is marking her. Deep kisses on her neck, bites that make Moka's body flinch and writhe, and her little noises are like the prettiest melody in the world. "So pretty," she repeats. "All mine."

Yunah moves down her body, her kisses trailing and leaving little bruises. She sucks her nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue, sucking and nibbling on the stiff peak and making Moka's body buck up. Her mouth goes to the underside of her breasts, to the flat expanse of her stomach. She sinks her teeth in and Moka is whining. Her back is arched, her head pushed back and she's gripping the sheets, and Yunah is getting closer and closer to her destination. "My pretty girl," she murmurs into the smooth skin.

"Yunah," Moka whines and Yunah looks up, finding her staring, biting her lip. Her eyes are wide and desperate, pleading.

She lifts Moka's leg and kisses the back of her thigh. The younger girl is so sensitive. Her skin shivers as Yunah's mouth moves closer to her core. "Once we're home, Moka, I want to fuck you. Like really fuck you, hard, fast. I've seen those videos. What you watch when you're on your own." Moka squeals and her face goes crimson. She covers her head with a pillow. Yunah can't help the smile as she continues, "I want to do those things with you. One of those strap-ons. You'll look so pretty taking it."

Yunah kisses the girl's clit and Moka's entire body flinches. A hand shoots to Yunah's hair and grabs tight, holding onto the locks. She smiles against her, teasing her pussy, her mouth kissing and sucking on the lips of her cunt. "You can do anything you want to me," Moka gasps. Yunah can't help the laugh that slips out, a laugh of amusement and happiness, and Moka is squirming.

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that." Yunah kisses the mess from her lips, and Moka lets out the cutest, most frustrated noise, her hips lifting and her back arching.

"You can use me."

Yunah stops for a second. She raises her head and finds Moka looking at her. There is a blush to her cheeks and she looks embarrassed, and maybe even a little shy, but that glint in her eye is undeniable.

Yunah lowers herself, pressing a soft kiss to Moka's inner thigh. She takes her time, making a show of it, and Moka's breathing is getting heavier, more impatient. "Yeah?" She kisses her again. "Let me bend you over?" Another kiss. "Hold your face down on the bed while I fuck you?"

"Please," Moka whines, "Yes, yes."

"What else?" Yunah's eyes flick up. Moka's chest is rising, falling, rising.

Moka whines again. She throws her head back. Her body trembles. Yunah kisses her cunt. It's a deep kiss. It has Moka's hips bucking against her lips. "You can be rough with me," she finally manages, her voice breathy.

"Rough?" Yunah's eyebrow arches. She dips her tongue past the wet entrance and laps at Moka's heat. The girl's body is writhing against her mouth and Yunah can't help the muffled giggle. She's so cute like this, so easy to tease. Moka is panting. Her face is contorted in a desperate need for more, for release.

"If you want to," she mumbles, and Yunah is so tempted to tease her further. But Yunah is just as eager. She is so desperate for more of her taste, her body, her scent.

"Maybe," she whispers against the wet lips, "maybe, I'd rather be soft with you." Yunah sinks two fingers into her tight, wet hole. Moka gasps, and then moans. Yunah's mouth latches to the little nub of her clit, sucking it and swirling her tongue. The fingers thrust into her and curl. The walls tighten and tremble. "Take my time, fuck you slowly."

Yunah starts a slow rhythm with her fingers. Moka is whimpering, moaning and trying to buck into the fingers. But Yunah is stronger. Her free hand grabs the younger girl's thigh and forces her down, keeping her still and making her accept the pace.

"Slowly," Yunah repeats, "So slow you'll think it's torture. And I won't let you cum, not for a long time, until you can't bear it anymore." She kisses the skin, kisses her pussy, and then looks at Moka who's staring. She's flushed, her eyes wide and needy, her lips parted, and her body is trembling. "Until your little body is begging for release." She pushes another finger into Moka. She can feel the tightness around her digits and the way she throbs.

"Oh fuck," Moka moans.

"Or maybe I'll fuck you hard and fast." Yunah pushes down hard on Moka's thigh, and the pace picks up, the fingers slamming in and out. The lewd, wet sounds that Moka makes are enough to drive her crazy, the sloppy, messy sounds that come with every thrust and the sight of Moka's pussy, spread wide, stretched and accepting everything she's given, it has Yunah's head spinning. She feels delirious, high off of the pleasure she can give this pretty girl. "Hard, fast. Pound your pussy and make your entire body ache. Make you scream, make you beg me to stop because you can't handle anymore."

Moka's throat strains, and her body tenses. "I can't," Moka moans and Yunah can feel her pussy twitching, clenching around the digits inside of her. So easily does she cum against Yunah's fingers, and she's crying out, loud, without restraint. She doesn't even try to hold it back, and she's so wet. Her cum is leaking out, soaking her fingers, and it's the hottest thing Yunah has ever seen. She can't take her eyes away. She can't look anywhere but the way that Moka is cumming against her fingers.

She curls her fingers a little more and moves a little faster. The flow of cum becomes stronger, and Yunah can't stop the groan that leaves her. "Fuck." Moka's body is thrashing, she's whining and whimpering, and then it sprays a little, her cum, squirting from her and soaking her hand, her arm, the sheets. It leaks and sprays, it's the hottest thing she's ever seen, and Moka's body is spasming. Her hips are bucking and the moans sound so pretty.

And then Moka goes limp, she collapses onto the mattress and pants. She's staring up at the ceiling and her body is still trembling and shaking. Cum still leaking out and staining the sheets. All she sees are stars; pretty, beautiful stars.

"I'll never get tired of seeing you do that," Yunah murmurs as she pulls her soaked hand away.

"Shut up." Moka giggles and pulls her hands to her face. She covers her blushing face. "It's so embarrassing," she mumbles into her palms.

Yunah laughs, climbing from between her legs and lying next to her. Moka turns, lying on her side. "It's not," she whispers, "it's hot." Yunah runs her hand up Moka's bare thigh. Her hand slides to her ass and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Really hot."

[hrrtshape]

PLEASE talk about your gossip girl dr you mentioned and young coryooo🥺🥺🥺🥺

things that my boyfriend does in my better cr that....truly warms my heart ( aka emma yaps about coryo )

finished writing this up in maths class, and i just know my teacher thinks i’ve lost the plot….... why are you side-eyeing me? let me giggle in peace.

he carries (one of) my lip glosses in his pocket and acts like it’s the biggest inconvenience but pulls it out instantly when i ask.

sharing airpods in class like it’s a lifeline but he always gives me the one that’s fully charged while he suffers with the dying one.

taking pictures of me when i’m not looking and making them his lock screen. which. ugh. cutie.

he lets me draw on his arm with a pen during class and then complains when it doesn’t wash off before dinner with his parents.

matching hoodies but we pretend it’s not on purpose.

dumb little inside jokes that make absolutely no sense to anyone else. he texts me "frog incident" in the middle of a test and i have to physically leave the room because i’m laughing too hard.

he always ties my shoelaces for me if they come undone, even if it means getting on one knee in the middle of the hallway like a loser.

doodling on my notes in class and writing things like property of coriolanus snow just to get a reaction out of me. weirdo......cringe lowkey. no i love him.

him randomly biting my shoulder when he’s bored.

me (!!) biting his bicep when i'm bored.

he always waits for me outside my last class leaning against the wall like he’s in a music video.

wearing my scrunchie on his wrist because i “left it in his car” (he did NOT have to keep it on).

fell asleep on each other during long drive and woke up to find he’s holding my hand in his sleep.

we made dubai chocolate, and thank god i know my baking cause he curdled the only chocolate we had.

taking me to the gym (ew), but not for like any malicious reason, actually i was the one who suggested it because this man *exercises*!!!!! like ok miss productive at a gym at five am.

matching the maison margiela tabi shoes, it's such a small detail, but i absolutely adore it. he'd be wearing lace-ups and i'd be wearing ballet flats.

driving me to school every morning.

i just have to mention this one part cause it’s so GRAH but i was walking out of my apartment complex and he was leaning against one of the pillars smoking and i came outside and he like wrapped his arm around my shoulder and continued smoking with his free hand. like okay..........

picking me up from the airport at 1am a few days before new years because i got out of the holiday family meetups just a bit earlier to see him.

when i got drunk on soju during the lighting of the tree at rockefeller centre and he was trying to heat me up.

he pinches my cheek. and that’s so evil. like. what the fawk. cherubicusm is NOT A FUNNY THING.

if he’s tired or annoyed or just being an absolute menace, he hooks a finger through my belt loop and just tugs me where he wants me. like i’m a thing to be dragged around. (and maybe i like it a bit....)

late-night drive-thru runs where he insists on ordering for me even though i could do it myself, just so he can say “and a chocolate milkshake for my girl” like we’re in a 1950s movie.

he keeps a lipstick-stained napkin from a dinner date in his wallet and pretends it’s just in there by accident, but he refuses to throw it away.

when i do my makeup in his room, he sits on his bed and watches.

he always puts my hair behind my ear when it falls in my face. not even thinking about it. just automatic.

when i fell asleep on his shoulder during a flight, he stayed awake the whole time just so my head wouldn’t move.

he let me paint his nails, but only clear polish, and only if i promised not to tell anyone.

he never lets me carry my own suitcase. ever. even when i argue.

when we go to stupid parties, he always keeps an arm around my shoulder when we’re moving through crowds, just so we don’t get separated.

he untangles my necklace chain when it gets knotted. just takes it from my hands and fixes it like it’s nothing.

i didn't respond to his texts once and he sent me a picture of my own house like “i know you’re in there.”

this is the mooooost miniscule but ungodly detail that made me want to marry him, but, having soy milk in his fridge. mind you, he lives with his family (he's 18 and we're still in school) and i visit 7 times max per week (every day....). and. wow. ugh.

every time he borrows a pen, he returns it with the cap bitten.

when i was complaining about my hands being cold, he took them in his and blew warm air on them.

when i’m walking ahead of him, he loops a finger through my bag strap and tugs me back. like...... not so fast. like.... where do you think you’re going?

we hook our pinkies together when walking. monster.

he adjusts my necklace when it gets twisted, gently brushing his knuckles against my throat. no acknowledgment. no reaction. just fixes it and moves on. (like a freak.)

if we’re arguing and i cross my arms, he just reaches out and tugs my wrist free, uncrossing them with this calm, effortless little motion. LIKE??? HELLO??? I NEED THAT BACK, ACTUALLY???

[humanjarvis]

my happy is your happy

synopsis: luke thinks sylus should make more friends. but does he really need them?

tags: fluff, kinda comfort?, unintentional family dynamics (idk what came over me i didn’t expect that to happen), potential unrealistic use of sylus’s evol bc what does “energy manipulation” even mean, reader is protective of sylus, sylus overhears, asterisks to denote pov shifts bc i didn't want to use dividers pairing: sylus x reader word count: 774

a/n: it’s been like 2 days of people calling sylus a friendless loser on twitter and that’s fine but IIIII don’t think ur a loser, sylus. wrote this on a whim in the last 2 hours, questionably proofread

“Have you ever noticed that Boss doesn’t have any friends?” Luke’s youthful voice rings out, putting a swift end to your peaceful night of reading on the couch. 

Folding your half-finished book over your lap, you look up at his masked face, raising an eyebrow. “He has you.” 

Luke scoffs. “I don’t count, obviously.”

“He has Kieran.”

“We’re practically the same person. Try again,” he says, waving a hand dismissively.

“…He has Mephisto,” you offer, an innocent grin on your face. 

He doesn’t even dignify that one with a response. 

“He's still in his 20s, for God’s sake! Don’t you think he should go out more? Party a little, meet some new people?” Luke asks, gesturing wildly with his hands. 

“Not if he doesn’t think he needs to,” you say simply. 

*** 

Sylus had just stepped out of the shower when he overheard your tired voice from the living room. Not if I don’t think I need to…what? he ponders, mulling over the possibilities. Increase their monthly allowance? Install lasers into Mephisto’s eyes? Entrust Onychinus to the twins in my will?

“But no friends?” Luke asks dramatically, snapping Sylus out of his thoughts. “None? Not even one?”

Oh, Sylus thinks. That. 

Realizing you were defending his…comfortable lifestyle, Sylus feels something warm and tight and slightly wistful squeeze in his chest. Smiling to himself, he shrouds his body in the dark wisps of his Evol and moves closer, watching the rest of your conversation with interest. 

*** 

Exasperated, you run a hand through your hair. “Luke, I think you’re overthinking this. Not everyone wants to go out and party and meet people. What about Sylus makes you think he wants to go out and party and meet people? You put him in a room full of cheap club music and cheaper beer, and he’s going to evaporate into thin air. Or cause a mass casualty incident,” you say, only to be met with silence. 

Sighing, you start again. “Look, I understand that you care about him and want to make sure he’s happy—I do too—but Sylus’s happy isn’t Luke’s happy. It isn’t Kieran’s happy, or Mephisto’s happy, or even my happy. It’s his. He’s the only one who can decide what makes him happy, and he’s the only one who can decide if he is or not.”

When Luke’s mask droops—a telltale sign of a pout appearing—you switch tactics. “And maybe it’s not that he doesn’t have friends. Maybe you guys are just enough for him—did you ever think about that?” 

At this, the beak of his mask perks back up, and you know you’ve got him. 

“You think we’re…enough for him?” he asks, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You nod. 

And then you try to ignore the way his hands twitch in excitement, fighting with all you have to keep your giggle from surfacing. 

“That’s…” he clears his throat. “You know what? You’re right, Y/N, my bad. You’re really smart, you know,” Luke responds gruffly, an incriminating wobble in his voice. 

Smiling, you stand up to pat his hooded head. “I know.” 

“Well,” he starts, a new vigor in his steps as he heads toward the door. “I’m gonna go find Kieran. We just got this huge shipment of explosives that w—”

“Nope!” you interrupt. “You’re not getting me in trouble again. The less I know, the better.”

Shrugging, Luke disappears into the hallway, and you shake your head fondly. 

“What a heartwarming conversation,” a deep voice rings out. 

Jumping from shock, you whip your head around. “Sylus?!” you whisper-yell. “How long have you been there?!”

Emerging from the shadows of the bedroom behind you, Sylus strolls toward you, a soft smirk on his face. 

“Just long enough to hear your passionate defense of me,” he quips, wrapping an arm around your waist. “How much is your lawyer fee?”

Embarrassed, you swat his chest, bowing your head slightly. “I know he meant well, but I just…don’t like it when people try to take your life out of your hands,” you admit quietly. “It makes me sad.” 

“Well we can’t have that, can we, kitten?” he rumbles, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “Let me cheer you up—I very much enjoyed hearing you speak up for me.”

Lifting your head up, you look into his warm garnet eyes. “You did?” 

“Mm,” he hums, pulling you closer. “I do hate cheap beer, and you all are enough for me. You know me very well,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“But for all your expertise, you were wrong about one thing,” he whispers against you. “My happy is your happy.”

[starredblood]

FADE INTO YOU

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: you live in a small secluded town in jeju where nothing ever happens until a girl with a face made of stone moved in. however, her disillusion about life makes your strange relationship with her complicated—further conflicting each others lives.

wc. 6.2k

warnings: situationship to ???, angst, little bit of fluff and comfort, use of alcohol and cigarettes, brief mentions of sexual intimacy, reader is very melancholic

(masterlist)

Living in a place that people dream of visiting is gloomier than you imagined it would be. Beautiful green scenery, pale blue skies, and waves crashing—it was paradise. The people, they were quieter and much more at peace with life than in the bustling cities back in the mainland. Unlike the corporate driven lifestyle you were surrounded with back in Seoul, it felt like time permanently stopped here in Jeju. You didn’t have to rush anything, especially living in a small tucked away town right beside the seashore.

The problem back in Seoul was that you were dissatisfied with your direction in life. But that ache in your chest still seeped into your new life here in Jeju. So, you think it’s not a location problem—it’s a you problem. There’s something wrong with you.

And you need something to get you going. Like now.

It might’ve been late afternoon by the time you heard several hard knocks coming from your bedroom. You let out irritated groans by the nonstop banging, still not intending to be awake at this hour in the day. To prevent the noise blaring through your eardrums you grab your unused pillow and press it to your face so your head could be sandwiched in between pillows.

But you heard a stern, equally as irritated muffle on the other end. “Hey? Are you awake?” you hear your older sister whine.

Her knocking was relentless and you knew she wasn’t going to stop until you reveal yourself from hibernating in your dark and depressed bedroom. “Coming.” you croak out.

You rub your eyes and lazily place your feet on the ground. It took all of your strength to get off your bed and walk over to your door. Stumbling in the process, you finally reach for the doorknob.

Your sister stood there with her arms crossed and forming a look of disgust at your current state. “Count Orlok, you live in a place with the most beautiful views maybe try opening your curtains.”

She comes inside your room and yanks open the dark curtains. Your eyes squint trying to adjust your irises to the blaring summer sunlight. The light gray sand behind your room made your room shine brighter thanks to the reflection of the sun bouncing off of the sand.

“What do you want? I don’t work today.” you ask her, watching peevishly as she picks up your dirty laundry off the ground—a habit of hers.

“Mom and dad are coming later tonight.” she explains and starts rummaging through your closet.

“You could’ve just sent me this over text instead of barging in here.” you retort, watching as she picked out clothes for you to wear. This is what your sister does, she loves control. And you just let her because you don’t want to move back to your parents.

“I came here because if I sent a text I knew you’d ignore it. You have to get ready now.” she says strictly. She sighs in disappointment when you let out another tired whine and flop on top of your bed. “Seriously are you depressed or something?”

“What? No—would you quit asking that?” you stammer and reach to hug your pillow, nuzzling into it and flutter your eyes closed. “I’m just…bored.”

“Bored?” she scoffs mockingly. “You’re the one that didn’t want to keep living with mom and dad. If you want to go back to by all means go. But if you’re staying then get ready.”

She tosses the clothes she wants you to wear straight to your face. When she storms out your room you began to incant quiet curses at her.

You used to have a great relationship with your family because you did everything they wanted you to do to the tea. It got ruined the moment you decided to navigate your own decisions about how you want to live life. Although you know dropping out of college and living with your sister isn’t the most ideal pathway, it was better than what you dealt with back home. But your parents don’t get it. They didn’t see the constant cries for help, instead they saw the dropping grades.

It didn’t help that your sister replaced you as their new golden child. She is a small business owner in Jeju and owns a house with her fiancée. And you’re staying in the room that is technically meant for their future baby—in the works.

“So, how’s your sister behaving?” your dad asks your sister about you. The only thing you could do was silently roll your eyes and keep eating.

Tonight the dining table was packed—even your sister’s fiancée was here who is known to be a workaholic. And of course, your parents couldn’t help themselves by trying to embarrass you the moment dinner was served.

“All she does is stay in her room.” she replies shaking her head while cutting her steak. “Whenever we want to have a meal all together she just prefers eating in her room.”

“Now, sweetie,” you mom sighs giving you a disapproving look. “why don’t you want to eat with them? It’s the least you could do after taking up one of their rooms.”

“And it’s their future baby’s room.” your dad adds with a mocking laugh.

“It’s fine, sir,” your sister’s fiancée claims calmly. “we aren’t in a rush to kick anyone out.”

You don’t wish to acknowledge them and continue to play with your food. There was a time where they used to praise you for your intelligence and grit. But ever since you gave up, you’ve become numb to their backhanded comments and criticism.

Yet deep down you know they’re right. When your sister finally has her baby you can’t live with them anymore so you need to start thinking about your future now or it’ll be too late. But it’s already late.

“You’re too kind, boy.” your mom says to the fiancée, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Maybe what she needs is a good man like you. Do you have any single, good men in your family that will be interested in my lazy daughter?”

“Mom.” you say to her warningly, throwing her a stern expression. You hear the fiancée chortle.

“What?” she asks innocently. “If you aren’t going to college then your future as an independent woman is over. You’ll need to find a man with a well established job if you want to live a good life. We’re all just looking out for you, honey.”

Exhaling a long dramatic sigh, you push your seat back and get up. You couldn’t stand it anymore—their never ending berating. When you walk away you hear all of them call out your name and telling you to come back down to eat. But you aren’t hungry, you’re tired. Tired of filling the space.

When you go up to your room you change out of the clothing your sister picked out for you and opt in for a lightweight sweater and sweats. You sneak back down the stairs and exit the house without being heard from your family, who you can hear still talking at the dining table.

The walk from the house to seashore was brief. It was nothing but you, your thoughts and the sound of waves crashing tonight because you don’t intend to go back until late in the night. And your family won’t get worried, they know that this is your way of throwing a tantrum.

Once you sat down on the soft part of the sand, you press your knees up to your chest then rest your chin on top of your kneecaps and stare at the salty water. This was your new favorite pastime. You used to have such a short attention span until coming here to Jeju. Everything about Jeju was slow and peaceful which is just what your tired body needs after putting yourself through twenty years of academic stress.

Unaware of how long you’ve been sitting in the sand and staring at the ocean, a silhouette emerges from the shadows. There is only one other person who would deliberately keep to themselves and use the beach as a form of refuge.

In routinely fashion, Sae-byeok approaches your lonely figure and sits down next to you without uttering a single word. Her long limbs stretch out in the sand and she also maintains her eyes on the ocean.

Your relationship with Kang Sae-byeok (if you couldn’t even call it that) was blurry. In the few months you’ve known her, it was easy to be around her. You never felt pressured to talk or to fake niceties with her. However, Sae-byeok’s guardedness and intimidation was ultimately the reason the two of you never got close. It’s hard to even consider the stoic girl a friend. And you think she’s fine with that.

Ever since she’s moved in this small town in Jeju, you felt a tad bit less lonely sharing the comfort of knowing there’s another girl your age living close by. But you still have so many questions to ask her. What do you do for a living to afford to live in one of the nicest house alone? Where are your parents? Are they wealthy? You don’t have a single clue about her and she wants to keep it that way.

And all Sae-byeok knows about you is that you don’t have a single clue about anything anymore—you just exist to fill the space. Or at least, that’s the way you explained your life to her.

The salty aroma, the sound of the waves sloshing and the cool breeze was enough to lull you to sleep. While slowly shutting your eyes, you almost forgot Sae-byeok’s silent presence was still there. Sleep was overtaking your body.

“What’re you doing here?” you hear her low hoarse ask you. You’re in a place where she speaks in full sentences now.

“Hiding.” you reply softly and open your eyes to look at her beautiful face. It was entrancing how the moonlight reflected onto her best features.

Her eyes start moving to stare down at her feet and she nods. “From?” she adds quietly.

“My parents. They’re here to visit my sister and her fiancée for the weekend.” you sigh.

When she glances up to face you, there is no longer the hesitation to avoid peering into your eyes like she did months ago. You know your strange bond with Sae-byeok is a little bizarre but you find her guarded presence a little comforting too.

“They aren’t here to see you?” she questions, her tone flat as usual but you paid attention to the way her eyebrows quirked for a second.

You hum in thought before shrugging. “I don’t know. They haven’t been happy with me recently.”

Maybe that little flicker in her eyes was pity because it made your heart clench. She must think about you like they do.

After you go back to observe the darkly illuminated ocean, you felt a warm hand softly grab the back of your head. You didn’t have time to react before feeling a soft pair of lips gently press yours.

This wasn’t going to be one of those typical nights of silence, that you’re sure of. Tonight is a rare moment in time where Sae-byeok is yearning for the affection of another and you’re always the one chosen to fill that void in her heart. But like everything Sae-byeok does, it’s a fleeting moment of affection that vanishes when morning comes.

And tonight, you weren’t having her push and pull antics after that disaster dinner with your family. You don’t initially react to the kiss and stiffly remain in the same position. The feeling lingered for a brief second before Sae-byeok pulled away. Her usual sharp gaze went completely soft as she slowly drew back after staring at your face centimeters close.

“Did I…?” she trails off unsurely.

You hesitate. “I feel like I don’t know you—“

“I told you that it’s better for us if you don’t know anything.” she sighs, sounding insecure and starts drawing shapes in the sand. “It’s easier this way.”

“…For you maybe.” you murmur quiet enough for her not to hear. You don’t need any more uncertainties in your life.

This was something new you both did—share stolen kisses. And if you’re both feeling extra lonely, then it would lead to something much deeper and vulnerable but that only occurred twice. Although it feels nice to be with her in the moment, you didn’t want her just for a brief period.

Without saying anything else, you feel her body shifting and the sound of shoes crunching on sand. You didn’t glance back at her when she started walking away. This was something she did when you tried getting close to her—she runs away.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

The salty air stung your face as you rode your bike to the boutique. At first, the smell was burning your nostrils but like everything in life, the feeling subsides. By the time you make it to the shop, your skin is hot by the sun glaring underneath you and your legs sore from pedaling fast. You were a few minutes late.

Once you’re in front of the boutique, you stop pedaling and hop off your bike. You didn’t see your sister this morning but you’re crossing your fingers she’s running errands instead of working. She already gave you a warning a few days ago about your tardiness and you don’t want to face her wrath again.

When you roll your bike to the back of the store you heard two familiar voices that shouldn’t coincide in the same vicinity. You hold your breath when you turn the corner and duck your head low.

You don’t know why Sae-byeok was here. She was leaning against the wall next to your coworker Ji-yeong, sharing a cigarette and giggling amongst each other like drunken friends. But when they spotted you coming around the corner, they mellowed out. You pretend not to see them, turn up the music in your headphones and quickly rest your bike against the wall.

A strange feeling in your stomach brews seeing them together like that. You were never seen with Sae-byeok in broad daylight—all of your interactions were hidden underneath the moonlight. It was a conflict feeling but then again, you don’t know a thing about her. So, you should stop setting yourself up to get hurt for no good reason.

Throughout your shift, you try to interact with international tourists as best as you can while suggesting an item of clothing. It was hard to force a customer service smile when you could see the two girls from the corner of your eyes, chatting by the counter.

You force your mind to think you’re upset that Ji-yeong is making you do all the customer service work while she does nothing. But deep down, you might be jealous. You thought you had something special with Sae-byeok…she doesn’t even smile that widely with you.

After finishing helping the customers as best as you can with the language barrier, you hide in the corner of the store arranging a rack that didn’t need to be fixed. But you couldn’t go anywhere else in this small shop without looking at Ji-yeong and Sae-byeok, so this was the only spot where you couldn’t see them.

“What’re you doing here?” a voice asks demandingly. You jump and snap your eyes to look at your sister, whose arms were crossed. “Well?”

“Cleaning.” you reply with a straight face. Of course she isn’t buying it. “What do you want me to do? It’s practically empty here right now besides those two tourist still in the store.”

She rolls her eyes and fixates her eyes on something ahead. “Hey, isn’t that your friend? The weird quiet one with, Ji?”

“Shut up.” you hiss.

She blinks like she was studying your anxious demeanor until she heard the sound of the door ring. “Look, go help them—they look rich.”

After another thirty minutes, Sae-byeok finally left the shop without uttering a word to you. To be fair, you were just helping customers but she didn’t look at you either. You try to swallow back the pain of rejection.

“I’m going on break.” you mutter to Ji-yeong who was ringing a customer at the counter. She curtly nods, barely any acknowledgment to your being as well.

Outside the boutique your sister bought an expensive bench painted white to match the rest of the shops exterior. You like to sit outside it for your break and observe the passerby’s. This town is much busier than your small, boring one. It’s filled with tourists, bikers, photographers and clumsy kids.

Five minutes into your break you feel someone sit beside you.

“You’re ignoring me now?” Sae-byeok mutters, shoving her hands into the pocket of her hoodie.

You barely look at her before shaking your head. “What did you want me to do? Jump in joy?”

She snorts and starts observing the crowd walking up and down the sidewalk too. “Ji-yeong invited me to this party—you should come.”

You fight back the urge to ask her about Ji-yeong and their history together. “I’m alright.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment to think. “Just come.” she says much quieter. You give her a skeptical look. She sighs at it. “It’s just in case I’m lonely there. I already said I’d go.”

“So, I’m just going to be there to fill the space?” you question, your voice shaking slightly by hurt. “No thanks.” you whisper.

“I didn’t mean it like that—I’m sorry.” she deadpans so you don’t believe she is.

You shake your head one last time and throw on your headphones. Since you only have a few minutes left to your break and you don’t want her to ruin it, you turn your body away to face her. It felt childish but you didn’t want her to see the pained expression on your face.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

You press your back to the wall, drinking out of your plastic red cup awkwardly as you watch a crowd of people dance up against each other—the lights flickering with color like a kaleidoscope in the ceiling.

It never dawned on you that you would ever be at a party on the mansion located in the hills of Jeju. For most residents here, their life goal is to be invited to a mansion party in this island. To get their small taste of the Great Gatsby. Although this wasn’t nowhere near as luxurious, it was still a big place with high ceilings, marble columns, and illegal drugs. Everything a rich person party needs and it made you feel out of place. They definitely party different—but most of the people here look like people your age so how different can they be?

You arrived to this party all alone. Sae-byeok wasn’t responding to your texts so for the first thirty minutes, you just took sips from your alcoholic beverage and walked around the mansion like it was a museum. It basically was a museum seeing as there were large intricate paintings and portraits carefully hung on the walls.

When you made it to the second floor, you started to get lost and after minutes of trying to find your way down the stairs you end up in an open space that looked like a smaller living room. A group of people occupied this space and turned to look at you when you froze by the entrance.

“Hey! Come over—don’t be shy!” a drunken voice slurs when you turned your back to walk away.

You quietly wince—without much of a choice you drag yourself over to them. A few kept their glazed eyes on you, others were too busy brewing an alcohol beverage that looked strong enough to make someone pass out. The person who called you over pats to the last empty seat next to them. It was a girl, short hair and multiple facial piercings.

“Now we have a full house!” she cheers once you sat down but no one acknowledged it, or least ignored her.

You peer at anything but the group of people chatting amongst each other. It was awkward being the only person not engaging in small talk so you keep taking swigs out of your drink. Now, you have to figure out how to slip out of this room without anyone noticing.

“Smoke?” the girl next to you asks, offering an already lit up cigarette to you.

You hesitantly stare at it. Since your dad was a heavy smoker, you were always intrigued by it. Screw it, you think, what else do I have to lose? You already lost everything.

When you nod, she holds the cigarette for you as you inhale the toxic smoke. Of course, you began choking up on the smoke and start coughing it out, your mouth and nostrils blowing out the grey smoke like a train engine. The girl laughs and starts patting your back.

“First time?” she asks, laughing and you only respond with a beet red face. “You didn’t inhale right. Breathe it in a little bit more deeper so it actually goes to your lungs.” she says and observes you as you try again. This time you didn’t choke up. “There you go.”

You never got her name but she offered you the strange alcohol concoction some dudes that looked blacked out drunk made. And with your mind already buzzing, you just took the cup and began drinking it. By the time you finished it, you were too afraid to move out of this couch with your head already spinning. It didn’t help that the people gathered around were blasting their own music and hopping on the seats like a bouncy castle—it only made you even more dizzy. But you couldn’t help but drunkenly giggle along side the girl next to you when one of the guys fell backwards on the couch.

She offers you another puff from her cigarette and you take it. When you place it between your teeth you see someone snatch it from your mouth. You peer up and see a hazy vision of the girl who led you to this party in the first place.

“There you fucking are. I was calling you.” she snarls, but her voice seeps of worry. You didn’t catch it however, your mind was too buzzed to properly catch her subtle cues. “Are you drunk?”

“I’m so tired…” you slur, resting your head in her lap. “All the time.”

Sae-byeok sighs and rakes her fingers through your hair, watching as you start lulling to sleep on her lap. But you couldn’t fall asleep just yet. The thought of dragging you out of this party and to your house already is making her body tired.

Sae-byeok knows better than you just drop you off home, knowing how hot headed your sister can be. She’s seen the way she barks order at you in her boutique. But it made her nervous bringing you to her house to spend the night. Ever since she bought the house with the prize money, she never allowed anyone in—she always thought the first people who would step in would be Cheol and her mom. But that’s what she gets for bringing more people into her life.

She crinkles her nose in disgust as she holds up your hair while your face was stuck in the toilet bowl, throwing up all the alcohol in your system. Once you’re done hacking like your life depended on it, you groan in pain and press your body on the tile wall of Sae-byeok’s bathroom—still unable to grasp that you’re actually in her house. But your mind is still loopy you couldn’t think about it too hard unless you wanted to throw up again.

You could feel the weight of her stare on your sad sprawled figure as you recollect yourself. “I’m not that drunk. Just dizzy.” you grumble at her, hugging your sore stomach.

“Whatever you say.” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Stay here—I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

After several minutes go by, she reappears with her worn out sweats and a band tee shirt. Her posture slumps when she sees you burying your crying face on your propped up knees. “Hey, why are you crying?” she asks in a softer tone, kneeling down to be at your level.

But you didn’t reply and maybe it wasn’t appropriate for her to ask you in your drunken state. So, she lifts you off the bathroom floor and guides you to her bedroom. When you lay on her bed, eyes already half lidded trying to fight back sleep, she chews on the inside of her cheek to think. You still have to change but you’re in a worn out state to physically be able to do it. It wouldn’t be weird for her to undress you and put on your clothes for you right? She’s seen you without any clothes twice before.

You don’t react when she starts pulling up your shirt, exposing your upper body to the cool air nipping your skin. And after she’s done putting on her sweats on you, you’re already asleep. She stares at your face, your mouth parted open slightly and cheeks tinted red from the alcohol. But she couldn’t help but worry about the tear marks across your face that didn’t dry up yet.

Once Sae-byeok finished doing her short nighttime routine she rolls next to you on her bed. She naturally spoons you, wrapping one of her arms around your waist and nestles her head into the crook of your neck. After inhaling the fresh scent of perfume and cigarettes on you she could feel her own sober self lull to slumber.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Head throbbing and limbs weak. That’s the first thing you felt when your eyes began to naturally flutter open. It took sometime to assess the place you woke up in and how you even got here in the first place. Your heart sunk when you remembered the hazy details. The sheer embarrassment of it all made you slam your face in the pillow and let out a groggily groan.

You are pathetic and an idiot. Sae-byeok saw the weakest form of you and you might never live it down. But surely you couldn’t have been that embarrassing? It’s not like you blacked out.

But now, you were afraid to leave the room feeling like you already trespassed enough. But Sae-byeok had to be somewhere in the house, she wouldn’t have left you here all by yourself you hope.

When you toss aside the sheets you gasp seeing the unfamiliar set of oversized clothes on your body. You’re conflicted whether to feel special or embarrassed with the fact she let you wear her clothes.

Sae-byeok’s room is…sad. She has no decorations that mark this room as hers except for her belongings mindlessly left on top of her night stand—her keys, wallet, and cigarette pack. It gets even stranger when you carefully step outside—the floor and walls were empty canvases.

You heard plates and silverware’s cluttering as you walked across the hallway. Naturally, you stiffen up and hug your body feeling exposed when you realized Ji-yeong was cooking something up in the kitchen and Sae-byeok leaning across the island counter, sipping from her mug. But only Ji-yeong turned to acknowledge you.

“Hey.” she greets casually. “I’m making breakfast, you want some? It’s not the best but probably will help if you eat something. Sae told me you got absolutely shitfaced last night—same here.” she snorts.

Your cheeks blaze up. When you glance over at Sae-byeok, your heart gets heavy seeing her act as if you were invisible to her. Did you piss her off last night thanks to your drunken stupor?

Feeling exposed and conflicted, you let out a low, “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?” Ji-yeong asks. “I don’t mind making another plate.”

You softly shake your throbbing head. “I’m just…going home.”

She doesn’t argue with you, only purses her lips and nods. You look at Sae-byeok again, still nothing. So you awkwardly shuffle back to her room to gather your things. You hope all your belongings are here anyways.

When you find your clothes folded by the edge of Sae-byeok’s drawer you press them to your chest and smell the stench of alcohol and cigarettes on them. You peer down and contemplate changing or walking away with the clothes you have on. That’s when the door creaks open behind you.

“Why aren’t you going to eat?” is the first thing she says to you. She leans her body against the door, keeping you trapped here as she hardens her gaze on you.

“I just want to go home.” you mutter in defeat, feeling small underneath her stare. “I’ll eat there.”

“Fine.” she exhales. “And…why were you crying last night?”

You swallow thickly. “I didn’t know I was…”

“You do.” she says coolly. “You weren’t that drunk by the time we got home. We both know that.”

You know that last night, you cried about everything in your life. The fact that you completely disappointed your parents for good, your sister sees you as a nuisance in her home, and you can never have Sae-byeok the way you want her. And you let it spiral a little out of control last night. But she isn’t with you and she isn’t your friend, so she doesn’t need to know.

“My head is too foggy right now. Just let me go please.” you croak out. She still doesn’t move out of the way. “Do you want me to give you your clothes back?”

Her posture slouches in defeat. “No. But can we just…just meet me later tonight at our spot, okay? We should probably talk.”

You don’t say anything. Actually, you didn’t much all day leading up to the night you met up with Sae-byeok. Because the moment you got home, all you did was stay locked up in your room with a throbbing headache and anticipating the night. You kept replaying the last thing she said to you in your head over and over trying to figure out what possibly would she want to talk about with you.

When midnight rolled around you threw on your black jacket and tossed the hoodie over your head, carrying Sae-byeok’s clothes with you as you snuck out the house.

Once you made it to your designated spot at the seashore, she was already there. She also had a hoodie thrown over her head but you knew it was her furiously typing on her phone. You took a deep breath before heading to sit next to her. As you sat down, you saw her face contort with frustration thanks to her phone softly illuminating over her face. She turns it off when she sees you silently waiting for her.

“Thanks.” she grumbles when you pass over her clothes and rests them on her lap.

“So,” you began airily. “why did you want to meet?”

She presses her lips together and pulls her knees to her chest in a guarded position that made you more nervous. “I just wanted to tell you that it was great having you around…before you I was pretty lonely—in general…And you’re sort of the first person I’ve ever been intimate with. But I realize how unhappy we both are and I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.”

For the first time, she finds herself struggling to look over her shoulder to see your face. You shut your eyes to stop your eyes from filling with tears and prepare yourself to listen to the rest of her explanation. Even if it left an achy feeling in your heart.

“I’m—broken, okay?” Sae-byeok trembles. “I can’t make you happy. Not when I can’t make myself happy.”

You start sniffling. It was so obvious, wasn’t it? You always thought that things would never work out with someone as closed off and cold as Sae-byeok but hearing her say it out loud stung more than the past thoughts. But she was right, neither of you were in the right state of mind. It still pissed you off though.

“Fuck you.” you whisper at her, your tone rough but heartbroken. All those stolen kisses and rare nights spent tangled underneath the sheets were turning into bittersweet memories in real time.

Just as you cursed at her, the waves came hurling down twice as big than they normally do. You gasp when the cold salty water soaked your pants. The two of you start scrambling backwards and the contact of the water. Sae-byeok stares at you wide eyed as you mumbled multiple curses while frowning down at your drenched pants.

After the fleeting cursing, you whip your hear up at the sky and see the full moon shining brightly underneath you.

“I—I’m going I can’t—“

“No. Please.” Sae-byeok silently begs, firmly wrapping her hand around your wrist to prevent you from moving. This was the first time you heard her speak in such a vulnerable tone. She walks around you to fully face you, breath hitching but looking deeply into your eyes. “If I ever get my shit together…do you think we could give this a chance maybe?”

You shake your head. “Sae-byeok, I can’t predict the future.”

“Okay but just—“

“What about me?!” you retort back louder than you expect to sound. She immediately closes her mouth, eyes rounding. “Have you ever thought about how I feel? About my life? Do you even care at all? Sae-byeok…I’m so lonely and confused! Did you know I dropped out of law school?” you ask pressing your finger to her chest causing her to stumble backwards without saying a word. “No, you didn’t! And you never cared to ask about why my parents never thought to see me because—I disappointed them! So…So that’s why I moved in with my sister because I couldn’t stand the ridicules anymore but she is losing patience with me by the day so I bet it’s only a matter of time before she kicks me out. But…you made me feel seen. I thought what we had was sacred and special—and I held onto the hope that maybe one day you’d realize that too. But you don’t really want me—you like the idea or probably because you’re even more lonely than I am that you’re desperate for affection.”

By the time you finished talking, she already dropped your hand. You didn’t dare to face her when your eyes were swimming with tears and your body shaken up from the cold and heartbreak. And when you finally turned around to walk away, deep down you wished that she would stop you and fight for you. But if she doesn’t have any fight left in her, then that was a sign enough for you to leave.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Sae-byeok began watching you from afar. The morning bike rides you took to your sister’s boutique, when you sat outside your porch and staring down at the ground in deep thought, and the nights you laid on the beach. She left you completely alone.

As the days gone by she wondered if she’d ever get the pieces of herself back together. But the nightmares never really leave, no matter how much money the world can offer—the horrors she endured and witnessed never got better like she hoped.

After the bus ride back from Cheol’s foster home, she checks the calendar on her phone. In just two months, if things go smoothly, she’ll finally reunite with her mother and she can finally get back her small family together.

When those two months turned into one month, Sae-byeok started to notice you weren’t around anymore. She knows how much you like secluding yourself in your room, but Ji-yeong hasn’t heard from you and she hasn’t seen you on your routinely biking ride in the mornings. One night, she waited by the seashore hoping you’d appear but obviously you never showed up. She felt stupid for even trying to hope.

She broke your heart—you had every right to disappear from her life. But you aren’t physically around.

So, the night before she had to go pick up her mother from the airport she decided to take matters into her own hand.

Her sweaty hands knock on the door to your sister’s house. After a few minutes someone finally answers and it was your sister. The first thing she noticed was her slightly round protruding belly.

“Oh, it’s you.” she hums sounding disappointed and leans against the door frame. “Is there something you need?”

Sae-byeok inhales deeply first. “Is she here?”

Your sister stares at her blankly before an uneasy expression started to form. “She didn’t tell you?” she asks and Sae-byeok remains frozen in place with her heart hammering out of her chest. “She went back to live with our parents to study law again. Left like…two months ago?”

“Oh.” she says lowly, trying not to make her face look readable. “Thanks.”

Your sister raises a brow, feeling skeptical of her odd appearance. But she just watches as she slumps in posture whilst slowly dragging her feet out of her property before closing the door behind her.

Sae-byeok chokes back tears and recalls the events of the last time you two spoken. It hits her—you never promised her anything. Of course you left without a trace.

Now she can only ever wonder, if she told you that night she wanted to be with you, would you have stayed?

🏷️: @tyresedidujsfart @yourstalkergirlfriend @yenyu1s @we1rdth0ughts @asappywriter @lilylamps @am4lv0da @everly-summers-solace @peelover25 @saebyeokbliss @noaanotfound @jumpedthenfell-13 @tlouloser @lyzem @thisuserisxnangel @knfthxv @laurenkenss @ninistranaut @stellssxo @bitchybananaflower @gummyoonji @marfe816 @knvschau @monroesturnns

[shitpostingsapphic]

I think y'all who think Vi should have had a more integral role in the revolution of Zaun, when we already have several characters who are dedicated to that cause and have that as their more central purpose (Ekko, Sevika), only see Vi FOR her identity as a Zaunite and don't think she can have any other purpose. "Vi can't choose love, she has to be central in the sovereignty of her nation" "it's bad writing for Vi to be with Caitlyn, she has to sacrifice her personal desires for everyone around her" as if Vi doesn't join the enforcers in order to fix the mess Jinx made, as if Vi doesn't spend months losing herself to alcoholism because she feels she's lost everything and everyone despite her best efforts to both keep those she loves and maintain peace between the two cities, as if she doesn't express the desire to help in the commune, as if she doesn't read Caitlyn the riot act for locking up Jinx again and STILL trying to stay connected to her sister, as if she doesn't fight in the battle against Noxus to stop Ambessa's tyranny against both cities, but most importantly against Zaun.

Vi has spent THE ENTIRE FUCKING SHOW splitting herself in a million pieces, trying to people please and sacrifice her own wants and needs for the sake of others. But the ONE FUCKING THING she chooses for herself, you guys have a problem with that.

I think you need to think long and hard about if you have this opinion on Vi because you think she deserves better, or because you think Vi belonging to a lower oppressed class means she can never enjoy something just for herself, make decisions for herself, that she must always be a slave to some greater cause. "Vi shouldn't be with the one she loves unless everything else around her is fixed" is some crazy ass bullshit.

[mr-affogatos-papers]

Living in the woods, isolated from society, and with Aliens for Neighbours wasn't as worrying as one would think — nor was it any different from living in a city neighborhood, minus the electricity. It was peaceful, a break from society's constant buzz.

The aliens weren't troublesome nor friendly and I kept myself the same. Their otherworldly existence and habits were peculiar and interesting enough for me to keep a track on their whereabouts more often than not. We all did have our personal lives, our habits and quirks. I wasn't one to judge, It ain't my place. But, If I was telling someone about my situation, I'd compare this to your everyday neighborhood. It's like on the rare chance you actually see your neighbor doing groceries, you would look quizzically at them hauling four bags in by themselves --out of which two are filled with only cans of monster or those 0.99$ each stress balls that would pop in a second. You wouldn't really question them, would you? And if you were dragging into your home a box that looks suspiciously like a coffin covered by a blanket, the most that would happen is them offering you help at your pathetic display of strength.

It was the same thing here.

We never crossed paths, usually working at different times and speeds. And on the off chance we did, I did have the decency to act like I did not see them with a 900-pound bear that was suspiciously tame and cooperative.

Though strange, it was peaceful like this. The large area they occupied had all the animals calm and sweet like little pups and cubs. The fear of predators, and the guilt that came with having to shoot 'em when they try to gnaw at me, slowly dwindled away when all they wanted was belly rubs and ear scratches and not my leg to snack on.

So yeah, no predators.

Until now apparently.

The note was a set of scribbles of English, written like a child who just picked up a pencil. But it was big enough for me to recognize the words and that, paired with the metal and another layer of who-knows-what vibrating all around my cabin said enough.

I wasn't one to question it or doubt its authenticity. If danger was presenting itself, and it was something they couldn't placate like those animals, then I'd ensure my own safety with their added protection. I grab the drying meat from the outside rack and the two shotguns I had kept to clean and bring it inside, dumping it by the door as I make my way to the kitchen.

To stay inside for an indefinite amount of time meant ensuring you had the essentials to be able to last so long. I knew I had to restock my necessities soon, do a 4-hour drive to the nearby town and a 4-hour drive back.

8 hours. And the sun was already halfway down. It would be impossible to make it before dark. And it's an unsaid rule to never be out in the dark when you know there's trouble lurking.

I curse as I decide what to prioritize but the moment, I open my cupboards I freeze. It was filled. To the brim. I open another cupboard and then another until all 6 of them are open. And then I open the fridge.

Stocked. Completely.

There was stuff I buy and stuff I don't usually buy. Like the 8 different types of pasta shapes. I don't know whether to be grateful for their foresight or concerned about how they got in without breaking the lock. On the fridge I notice a note written in the same childish handwriting

"It was a matter of urgency. apologies"

Holy pepperoni. I crumple the paper and throw it in the bin as I plan out my next steps. Reload my guns, dry out some fruits and meat, nap for a few hours, and stay on guard for what seems to be a really long time. solid plan. I crash out on my sofa immediately after I'm done with my tasks. Waking up I find out it was unnecessary. Late into the evening, I find a note slipped through the crack under my door, the familiar scribbles highlighting it, "It's safe. You can come out" I'm not the trusting sort, not in the slightest when it comes to believing the danger was gone so soon. But I was curious, so I look out of the peephole and find the fortified defenses around my place gone. I huff, looking back at my note. I didn't hear a single sound of life. I crumble the paper and aim it at the bin, dropping my shotgun on the couch as I walk past. A few more hours of sleep wouldn't hurt.

The aliens you've seen while living out in the woods have rarely been "friendly," but always benign. You have your space, they have theirs, rarely interacting... which is why you knew something was wrong when you found advanced defenses around your house and a hand-drawn warning to stay inside.

[dark-night-hero]

"Hey isn't that-?" "Shhh!" "What? What! Isn't that Mich-!" "You think I don't know? Just keep your voice down if you don't want to get kicked out." "W-what?" "The owner of the Cafe." The girl utter as her eyes trail on the figure in a kitcken apron now emerging out of the kitchen with a tray of freshly baked dessert in it, carefully putting it on the display stand. "And Michael Kaiser" The girl now looking at Michael Kaiser who finally looked up from his phone and is now looking at the owner with intense yet gentle gaze. "Were lovers." "No shit."

"Sorry, did you wait too long?" You asked as you went out of Cafe back door, now dressed in a casual attire as you finally manage to close the Cafe after a long day of work and baking. You did not hear your lover reply causing you to look up and there he was looking at you. "Let's go." He spoke nonchalantly but did not forgot to reach out a hand for you to take in which you did not dare not take. Wrapping one hand into his arm, with the other reaching out for his hand as you cuddle close to him. "Are you cold?" "No." He replied softly.

Imagine walking in the midst of the buzzing city of Berlin, the two of you walk hand in hand. Already on your way at home to get some rest when the two of you happened to come across an old alley. "This bring back memories." You chuckle, eyes glancing over the alley. "Hey remember when we were children, no one was really with me at home so I got into baking. Then I happened to bring some with me in my room and forgot it was pipping hot I have no choice but to put it on the window and went back into the kitchen and by the time I come back for it, it was missing."

Imagine the way Kaiser hummed, his blue eyes glancing over the alley. "So? What happened to it?" "To that tart?" You pause like you thought for a moment before smilling sheepishly. "I don't know, I thought it was just a rat. Turns out the theft was a very cute boy." You chuckle. "To be honest at first I was mad but then I have come into conclusion that maybe my tart was just that good he couldn't help but to stole it." "Quite a narcissistic claim." Kaiser spoke with a small smile that was hidden by the shadow of the night, keeping you close to him.

"Oh! I'm sure he loved it. I always left a piece by my window whenever I make an extra piece and its always gone by the sec I look away." He just humm in return. "I always try to get a glimpse of him but its annoying how I never got to see him until I got sick one day." You smile at the memory and cuddle more into him, heck if only you could stuff your self into his arms you would. "Are you cold?" He asked. "No, I just want to be close to you." You smile at him. "You know, I really thought I was gonna die back then. I have no one around me and I was getting delirious because of the fever." Then you pause, earning a look from him and to stand on your toes for a kiss. "Thank you."

"Well my baker is going through something, I don't wanna loose them over a goddamn fever." "But I heard later on you got in trouble with the nearby pharmacy." "Is that why you started handing over a bigger portion of the pastry?" "..." "Is that also the reason why you had given me that letter?" "Idunnowhatyouaretalkingabout." He just humm in return, a smirk tugging his lips as the two of you finally reach the building where his penthouse was, something that was once within out of reach.

Imagine in the midst of the peaceful dinner, "if I had known you were coming home early I would have gone grocery shopping. Do you know how shocked I was to see you sitting in there earlier? I thought I was hallucinating." "Why would you even hallucinate? Did you started missing me so bad you started to make up an imaginary version of me? For someone who told me they wouldn't miss me even if I was gone for a whole year, you're quite the clown." "The real clown is you in that neo ego-" You were cut off with a spoonful of meal as he glare at you causing you to burst into laughter. "Oh my goodness Michael, you're still not over it?"

Imagine it was late at night but there you are, baking for some dessert which is now laidnto rest in the oven as you sat by the kitchen counter, legs dangling as you humm into a familiar tone. "Is it still not done?" "It'll be done 5 minutes." You did not turn around, not when you can hear his footsteps approaching you. "Miss me already?" You smile as you pull him in embrace, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Hah- you wish." "What a shame, I was baking your favourite along with tarts. I guess I'll just have to give-" You were cut of with a kiss. "You wouldn't dare." "Try me, Michael."

"Hey Michael, do you still have the letter I give you?" "..." "Do you still have it?" "No." "You hesitated." "No." "You still have it." "No." "Michaellll." "Let's go to sleep." "But-" "Good night Schatz." "..." "Goodnight Michael. Ich liebe dich." "Ich liebe dich auch, süße träume, mein Schatz."

Dear stranger,

Let's fill these days with the kind of joy and desserts we'll remember forever. Let's make this a great childhood memory, one we'll cherish for years to come.

I'll make more desserts in the future so feel free to drop by anytime. Thank for the last time. Also, can you tell me your name next time?

From your friendly baker neighbour.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: You see, I'm trying to learn german.

: Also, this imagine is dedicated to @yumiko0987 , thank you for the prompt ideas and I'm really sorry this one took so long 🙏

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hi ivy baby! congrats on 2k you deserve every follow!

I was hoping to req a teddy dust? 🧸

charceter: regulus black, prompt: “why do you always pull this shit?” from prompt list angst number 2?

thank you! and again congrats!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ a nod

synopsis: ever since you got with regulus, you've known he misses sirius—no matter how much he denies it. you never push too hard, never force it, but tonight, one word too many turns soft touches into sharp edges. you leave. hours later, he knocks content warnings: angst, arguments, avoidance, hurt/comfort, soft ending author's note: hi darling!! 🧸ྀི thank you so much you're so sweet! keep your heart ready for some ache & softness!! mwah ‹𝟹 nav. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀2k celebration. ⠀

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 731

Regulus is warm beneath you, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that lulls you into a quiet kind of peace. Your fingers slip through his hair, slow and rhythmic, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp. He sighs at the feeling, his grip around your waist tightening just a fraction, like he wants to keep you anchored there, pressed against him, where nothing else can reach him.

The room is dimly lit, the candles on the bedside table flickering soft shadows against the walls. It feels safe here, untouched by the outside world, untouched by the ghosts that linger at the edges of Regulus’ thoughts.

Until you speak. Until you break the silence.

“I saw Sirius today.”

His body goes still beneath you.

Your fingers falter for only a second, but he feels it—of course he does. He always does.

Regulus doesn’t move, doesn’t push you away, but the warmth between you shifts, replaced by something cold, something bracing. “And?” His voice is controlled, careful. But you hear the tension beneath it, the way his words tighten around something unsaid.

You take a slow breath. “He asked about you.”

A sharp exhale through his nose. “That’s nice.”

You close your eyes for a second, gathering your thoughts, choosing your words carefully. “Reg,” you whisper, “he misses you.”

His fingers twitch where they rest against your back, and for the first time since you spoke, he looks at you. His grey eyes are dark, unreadable, a storm brewing beneath the surface. “Why do you always pull this shit?” His voice is sharp, but there’s no real anger behind it, only exhaustion.

Your heart clenches. “Because I love you.” The words slip out in a breath, soft but certain.

He swallows, jaw tightening. “Love has nothing to do with this.”

You sit up now, fully looking at him, refusing to let him slip away. “Love has everything to do with this,” you say, firmer now. “I know it’s complicated, Reg, I know it’s not easy, but you’re not—” You pause, gathering your words. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

His gaze flickers, a split second of vulnerability before the mask slips back into place. “I don’t need your help.”

You shake your head, heart aching. “I don’t believe you.”

Regulus exhales, running a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping at the strands like they might keep him grounded. “I need to be alone,” he mutters, and this time, there’s something final in his tone.

You study him, searching his face for any sign that he might change his mind. But his walls are up again, shutting you out.

So you nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Okay.”

And then you leave.

The hours stretch long and quiet.

You try to sleep, but the bed is cold without him. The space beside you feels empty, like something is missing, like something was torn away too suddenly. The weight of your conversation lingers, pressing heavy against your chest, making it impossible to breathe properly.

Then—

A knock.

You hesitate for only a second before pulling open the door.

Regulus stands there, bathed in silver light, the moon catching the edges of his sharp features. He looks tired, his hair slightly messier than before, as if he’s been running his hands through it over and over again. His lips part, and for a moment, he doesn’t speak. He just looks at you, something fragile and uncertain in his expression.

Then, quietly— “I nodded at Sirius today.”

You blink, breath catching.

Regulus shifts on his feet, his fingers twitching at his sides. “I saw him,” he continues, voice softer now, hesitant. “And I nodded.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “And he nodded back.”

A breath shudders out of you, something warm blooming in your chest, gentle and aching all at once. You reach for him slowly, giving him a chance to pull away. He doesn’t.

Instead, he steps forward, letting you wrap your arms around him, letting himself sink into you, just a little. His forehead presses against your shoulder, and you feel him exhale, shaky and uneven.

You smile against his temple, pressing a soft kiss there. “I’m proud of you,” you whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, but his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, and you know. You know this is the start of something new.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.